I Belong With You, You Belong With Me
by Tarafina
Summary: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity. [Caroline/Elijah]
1. Part I

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 6,069  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelganger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**I.**

**_1492_**

He stumbled upon hope in the middle of a clearing. The early morning sun was still climbing the sky, filling each and every dark corner with its light. Dew dripped from leaves and collected on the long, green grass she danced barefoot in, the blue cloth of her dress swishing around her legs. She twisted and spun circles, her arms stretched above her head, reaching for some unseen force high above her, a stunning smile pulling at her lips.

She was lovely.

Pale, porcelain skin with pink stained cheeks and bright blue eyes. Long, blonde hair, falling in gentle waves down her back, curling at the ends. And she glowed. She positively _glowed_ with vitality and innocence and untouched purity.

Elijah watched her with unadulterated want. He wanted the freedom she had as she danced, the purity she still possessed, the blissful ignorance of not knowing how dark and treacherous the world truly was. Here, in the woods, this unnamed beauty was untouchable; she was the personification of all that he had lost and wanted dearly to have again. He wanted to preserve her, to keep her just as she was, happy and unaware, beautiful and bright.

She glowed against the darkness he felt growing inside him, insidious and terrible, a curse that made him drink the foul blood of people he hardly knew, people who cringed in terror, whimpered for their lives, and begged him to have mercy.

Was she mercy? Was she kindness? Was she all that they wanted to see in him but never found?

He had been that way once, had he not? He had been the good brother. The kind, just Mikaelson, calm and careful where Niklaus was quick to anger and violence. Elijah was not that man anymore, not completely. The draw of blood, the necessity of power, had played its song and he had listened. It swelled to a crescendo, leaving him a mere puppet, dancing on its strings, helpless to its clawing desperation.

A part of him even now, seeing her as she was, wanted nothing less than to sink his teeth into her throat, taste the ambrosia of her blood as it fled down her skin, wetting her dress, making the fabric cling to her, soaked, hugging the swell of her breast as his hand rose from her tiny waist to cup it, mold it to his palm. With blood there was a carnal draw, a desire that pulsed perversely beneath. Often, he would sate his tongue on one neck and seek out a willing woman to help him fill the other need; here, he thought he could find both in one person.

He shook his head, however, forcing away the haze of bloodlust. She was too perfect, too right, for him to soil. He would keep her as she was, intact, and hope that she remained so.

He watched a moment longer as her dancing came to an end and she returned to pick up her basket and tuck her feet into her slippers. She returned to what she had been doing, scavenging for food, likely for a family that loved her dearly. He wondered briefly if she had a husband, a child that tugged at her dress, but a pang in his chest told him not to think on it long.

He tracked her with his eyes until she was so far away only his ears could pick up on her padding footsteps and calm heartbeat, and then he fled, returning to his brother and his so far fruitless attempts at finding the doppelgänger. Despite the company of Niklaus, Elijah felt loneliness, deeper and rawer than ever before.

...

Elijah did not return for seven long days. Instead he busied himself working alongside his brother, who was becoming increasingly violent with every sighting that came up false. Niklaus was obsessed; he wanted the doppelgänger and he was certain she was within reach. Elijah tired of the chase; he was tired of looking for Tatia's face in every person he met, waiting to see her reflection in a woman bound to die at the hands of his brother. He took refuge in his memory of the golden haired beauty, her name unknown to him, but her smile etched into his mind.

He made his way back to the same clearing, hoping she might be there, that perhaps she danced there every morning. But he stood in that same spot as the sun rose higher and higher, and never did her bare feet touch the moist ground like they had that day. She was nowhere to be seen. He stepped out from the trees and made his way to the center, where her pale pink toes had pressed into the dirt and grass as she twirled and twirled without a care. He turned his head back and let the sun wash over his face, warm and invading every crevice of his skin.

He turned his heel to the right ever so slightly and followed it with his toes. One foot and then the other, and very slowly, stilted in his movements, Elijah made a circle, his dark hair rustling as air moved around him, quicker and quicker now. His closed his eyes, intent on the feeling of having no control, of simply moving and feeling. Was this what she felt? Was this why she laughed?

And then—a giggle.

He stopped suddenly, feeling immeasurably silly, and his head turned, searched for the culprit that had witnessed his senseless act of childish behavior.

It was her. She was smiling at him brightly, her head tipped, long blonde hair sifting over her shoulder. "Please, do not let me stop you," she said, amusement clear in her voice. "You are very nimble on your toes, sir."

He swallowed tightly, eyes darting away. "I… I was…" For the first time in his life, Elijah felt his carefully cultivated demeanor fail him. He could not find anything clever or formal to say as he had just been caught, quite obviously, dancing in a clearing.

She stepped forward, pausing only once to slip her feet from her slippers, and reached down to grab up the skirt of her dress as she moved closer. "Have I caught you in a moment, sir?" she wondered, looking up at him from beneath the fan of her dark eyelashes. "Have I embarrassed you?"

"Slightly, yes," he admitted. And, were it possible, he thought he might actually blush.

She bit her lip. "I apologize. My mother tells me I have a tendency to do and say the wrong things at the worst times." Her forehead wrinkled. "I was not aware anyone knew of this place…" She nodded her chin to suggest the clearing.

"You thought this space to be your own?" he wondered, staring down into her eyes. "I had not seen the flag of ownership planted in the earth."

She flashed a grin. "Perhaps I was in the process of making one when you found it…" She raised an eyebrow. "Would you not take a lady's word then?"

"Perhaps…" he said, lips twitching with amusement. "Sadly I cannot vouch for her honor as I know nothing about her except that she prefers to be slipperless in the woods."

She glanced down at her feet, drawing her dress up a little to wiggle her toes. "The better for dancing," she told him. "Though I noticed you did not seem hindered by your boots."

He laughed under his breath, brows hiking slightly. "Tragic as it may be, I am unfortunately new to the art of forest dancing."

"Then you have found the perfect teacher," she offered, raising her chin. "But, there is a price, I must admit."

Seeing her angle, he pursed his lips to keep from smiling. "And would it happen to be ownership of this small piece of land, miss?" He waved a hand around him.

"It would," she told him, nodding, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "As you may well be the only other person who has found it and you question my honor in having done so previous, I must ask that you accept my ownership in trade for dancing lessons." She held a hand out for him to shake. "Do we have an agreement, sir?"

"It seems a mighty large boon on your side… How am I to know that your dancing lessons are of the same value?"

She tipped her head and queried, "Do you quite enjoy questioning my worth?"

He frowned and shook his head quickly. "No. I apologize if that is how—"

Her laughter cut him off. "I offer this then… For my land I will give you dancing lessons and with it, something of even more value."

He quirked his head curiously.

Her eyes widened, brows hiked high. "_Fun_," she told him, emphasizing it as though it were a foreign word to him.

Given how he repeated it with clear confusion, he thought he may have proven her assertion right.

She poked him in the chest. "You, sir, are in need of it." Her hand wiggled in front of him to encourage him to reach for it. "Miss Caroline Forbes, to encourage you to have fun and dance freely and barefoot, at your service."

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he felt a smile struggle its way forward. "Elijah," he returned, taking her hand in his. He left the _'Lord' _part absent, as he was well aware that to bring social status into this would have her changing her approach immediately. It mattered little that it was just the two of them there in the clearing, with no witness to remind her of propriety. She would have to address and act much differently with him if she recognized his title. He did not want that; he rather liked how guileless she was with him.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate, and he felt the thrum of life pulsing just beneath, a little unsteady, quick, as if she was not so calm and put together as she showed. Perhaps he was not the only one affected by the other's presence; he hoped it to be true even as he ignored just how strange the situation they had found themselves in.

He was supposed to be helping his brother find the doppelgänger; he was a vampire, a _monster_, who feasted on the blood of young, beautiful women just like her. But here she stood, enchanting, alive, and brimming with sweetness.

"How willing are you to take your shoes off, Mister Elijah?" she asked, tilting her chin forward, her eyes narrowed as if she were asking him something of deep import.

Amused, he wondered, "Would that be my first lesson, Miss Caroline?"

She shrugged her shoulders, drawing his eyes to where her blue frock covered her skin modestly, though a gold locket hung around her neck, falling to the swell of her chest. She reached up to play with it absently, twisting the chain around her fingers. "I care not if you wear shoes, but I guarantee it to be better without."

"You dance here often?" he queried.

"It is my favorite part of the day," she told him, turning on her heel and stretching her foot out, hopping across the grass toward where a small bundle of daisies grew. She reached down and plucked one out, twisting it around before she spun to face him again. "What is yours, pray tell?"

"My favorite part of the day…?" His brows furrowed as he gave it due consideration. Truth be told, he did not have a favorite part. The days all seemed to drag together, molding into an eternity of searching for someone he cared not to find. It was not until the day he had seen Caroline, until he began wondering if she was in the clearing, dancing, that he had felt himself come alive again. "I do not have one," he told her.

"Then we will change that," she assured, crossing the grass back to him and holding the daisy up as if it were a gift. "Good sir," she said dramatically, bowing her head. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"

"I fear I would not do you justice." He shook his head discouragingly. "My way of dancing is… more conventional."

"Then I will teach you to dance my way and you will teach me to dance yours." She reached for his hand and gave him a tug. If he was not a vampire, he imagined he would have tripped over his feet at the jarring movement. She drew him to the center of the clearing and turned to look up at him, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It is quite easy," she assured. "There are no rules."

"None?"

She raised her hands up, stretching her fingers as though they were reaching for the clouds or the sun or the stars that hid from the day. "You forget everything, you see… Responsibility, family, every stress that plagues you… And you simply move." She twirled away from him, closing her eyes as she spun and spun and laughed.

His brow wrinkled. "Without music?"

"Can you not hear your own in your head?" she wondered, smiling. "If not, I can sing." She opened her eyes. "Would you like that, Mister Elijah? For me to sing to you?" She was panting a little, her cheeks flushed, and her hair fell across her face.

He feared he would like that very much. In fact, he thought he would like _her _very much; _too _much, if he allowed himself. "And would you?" He stared at her searchingly, his head tipped. "Sing and dance for me and only me?"

"In this clearing, there is only us," she told him simply. "And since we are both strangers in a…" Her eyes lit up with amusement, "_strange _land… Then why not ignore social confines and do what we wish?" She walked to him and reached for his hands once more, raising them slowly, their fingertips touching. "Will you let go?" she asked him, her voice soft. "Will you let it all go and dance with me?"

She was shorter than he and therefore could not reach as far, so her fingers slid down to his wrists as she kept his arms raised above.

He turned his chin down to look at her and thought that, if his heart could beat, it would hammer its way free of his chest and land at her feet. "I will not be very good," he warned.

She shook her head. "Neither was I when I first began."

"I find that quite hard to believe," he murmured.

"You have much to learn about me," she said, her tone taking on a teasing lilt as she raised her eyebrows and grinned at him.

"I am very willing to do so," he returned sincerely.

Her expression softened. "Close your eyes," she whispered.

He wasted only a second before his eyes fell shut and he waited. He could hear her heart, her breathing, even the swish of her dress at her ankles. She slid her hands down his arms and one hooked on his elbow. She gave it a tug until he turned in a half circle. "Keep going," she encouraged.

And so he spun. He spun and spun until he could not stop laughing, feeling ridiculous at first, but then free. Free of the pressures of his brother's search, of the demands on him and his time, an eternity of it, of his own fears and self-hatred. He spun until all he could feel was the cool, crisp air and the scent of Caroline filling his lungs; there was only the sun reaching his fingertips and the echo of his and her laughter mixing with the staccato of her heartbeat.

And when he stopped, he was dizzy at first, though he found his balance easily, and he smiled at her, larger and deeper than he thought he might ever have before.

"Your first lesson is complete," she told him, smiling back with the same sincerity.

"So soon?" His joy began to fade.

"Night is coming," she said, lifting her chin to the sky. "I usually come here earlier but I was waylaid by my mother." She turned her attention back to him and reached up to comb her fingers through her riotous hair, pulling it all over to hang down one shoulder. "I will return in the morning, just as the sun rises, if you would like to meet for your second lesson..."

"Yes." He nodded. "I would like that very much."

"Wonderful." She smiled before turning and making her way back to her slippers. "I enjoyed dancing with you, Elijah."

"And I you, Caroline."

She turned and fled into the woods, humming under her breath; he watched her go until he could no longer make out the shine of her golden hair.

He smiled the whole way back to the estate, his chest light and the anticipation of the morning making him feel more hope than he had in some time.

…

Elijah returned the next morning and the next and the next after that. For two weeks, his every morning, as the sun lit the sky, had him standing in the clearing, waiting for her. And every day she surprised him; with her insatiable curiosity, her complete disregard for socially accepted manners, and her endlessly excitable nature.

Only a few days after meeting him, she asked him, "Have you been to war then?" Reaching out, she touched the tips of her fingers to the hilt of his sword.

His eyes fell to watch her hand; he could not be felled by such a simple weapon, nor did he fear Caroline would try to do so, but it was not common than anyone so casually reached for his sword. It hung at his hip easily, comfortable, a reminder of who he was, who he had been raised to be; a warrior.

He nodded, watching as she circled him, brow furrowed as she stared at the blade thoughtfully. "I have," he answered. "War was… very common where I come from. It became man's answer to every question."

Her eyes flickered up to his. "It still is, is it not?"

His lips twitched, only partly in amusement, while another part could not help but recognize how very smart she was. "Men are bloodthirsty… Some more than others."

"And are you, Elijah?" She stepped up close to him, her head tipped, eyes narrowed. She demanded an answer, and not a polite one, but an honest one.

"If you are asking whether I have killed then _yes_, I have… Sometimes regretfully, other times proudly." He raised his chin; stubborn, graceful, unapologetic to be so sure.

"And those you regret… Would you change them?" she wondered.

His gaze dropped as he thought back on his many kills; some in the heat of battle, the blood spraying his face as he cleaved limb from body, head from shoulders, others from mere necessity to his brother's cause. He should regret their deaths, but his loyalty was not to them or their lingering ghosts; it was to Niklaus. He thought too of those who fell to his actual bloodlust, to the monster that simmered beneath the surface, always ready to strike, and he did regret that they had to die for him to survive. "It is a complicated issue, Caroline," he told her, instead of getting into the specifics of his very confusing history of death.

"I do not think it is…" She shook her head. "I think you know the answer, but you are uncertain if you should share it with me."

"You are very perceptive," he said, staring at her searchingly.

"Or perhaps I'm simply used to people underestimating how much I might understand." She turned on her heel and walked away, her bare feet peeking out from beneath her dress.

"And who underestimates you?"

She looked back at him, her lips pursed. "My mother and father, for certain… My father because he thinks I'm a silly girl, with notions of love that life will never grant me… My mother because she has expectations of whom I should be and I rarely meet them." She lifted her shoulders as if to say that she would not carry their doubts on her, and took a deep breath, offering him a smile that tried and failed to hide the hurt in her words. "And perhaps they are right, in some regard… I _am_ silly." She shook her head. "And I will never meet my mother's standards… But I do not believe I'm meant to." Her brow furrowed. "I would rather believe and hope for love. I would rather be happy with who I am than be someone I'm not and hate myself for it."

"I think you are perfectly lovely," he told her, staring at her squarely. "And if you are silly, then it is something to aspire to."

She smiled brightly, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and let out a little giggle before she walked toward him. "Do you know what I think?"

He peered down at her pretty face and shook his head.

"I think it is time to _dance_…" She made a dramatic bow and looked up at him from the tops of her eyes, her lips curled devilishly, and held a hand out to him. "If you would do me this honor, good sir…?"

He chuckled under his breath and took her hand, letting her pull him around as she started to dance to the song that played in her head.

And he watched her, the way she let the hurt drain away as she smiled and laughed and twirled before him.

Her parents were fools, he decided. They had no idea the gem they had in their midst; whom they had raised to be such a beautiful, free soul, and who deserved their never ending appreciation. He would not repeat their mistake.

…

"Will you tell me of your travels, Elijah?" she asked him one morning, fingers picking through her hair, knitting tiny braids into it.

"I have been many places, Caroline. It would take far longer than a morning to share them all with you."

"Well perhaps if you tell me, the day will stop, the world will stay in its place, and we will be the only two who keep moving…" She smiled over at him cheerfully. "And then you can talk for an age and I will listen intently to how the outside world compares to the abysmal one I live in."

"And where would you travel?" he queried, an eyebrow raised. "If you had the world at your feet, where would they take you?"

She whirled toward him, her expression bright with excitement. "_Everywhere_," she said with reverence, walking quickly to meet him where he stood center in their clearing. "I would travel the oceans and—and I would learn new languages! I would meet new people and have them teach me their ways." She nodded. "I would see the _whole_ world and I would _never_ return!" She nodded, her gaze falling to the ground. "I would find freedom and I would never waste it."

"Perhaps one day you will," he told her, his voice deeper, heavy with thought.

He imagined Caroline, leaving behind the shackles that chased her outside of the clearing, much like his own Niklaus-shaped ones, and he found himself wondering how marvelous it might be to show her the world himself. To see the light bloom in her eyes as she reached each new destination, that insatiable curiosity coming forward and filling her to the brim.

When he left the clearing, he knew those fanciful dreams would have to fade, but when he stood inside it, with just Caroline and the hope for that future apparent on her face, he let himself think it could be possible.

…

"What are their names again?"

"Niklaus, Rebekah, Finn, Kol, Henrik and Aaron," he answered. He fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt then and cleared his throat, his eyes falling. "Henrik and Aaron both died quite young though. It was… unfortunate. They would have become good men."

Caroline paused and reached for him, staying his hands and taking them into her own. She stared up at him, blue eyes swimming with empathy. "I'm so sorry, Elijah."

"Thank you. It is… unnecessary though. It happened… a very long time ago," he dismissed, glancing away.

"Your family will always be your family… And I imagine that losing them has only made you love them more."

He raised his eyes to meet hers, his teeth grinding as he felt the truth of her words burn in his throat. He gave a quick nod; it was not often he let his emotions get the better of him and he feared doing so in front of her would make him look weak.

"Will you tell me about them?" she asked, squeezing his hands. "Here, come…" She led him to sit on the edge, his back against a tree. "For everything you tell me of them, I will tell you a story of something silly I did as a child," she offered, smiling up at him encouragingly.

And so he did.

He traded a memory of Henrik wandering into the woods in search of a spotted rabbit for Caroline's story of the time she stole her neighbor's pig before it could be slaughtered as she had bonded with it and did not want it to be killed. He traded Aaron's first words for the time she had lost a tooth and thought it was because she fell out of a tree and her parents would be angry with her for climbing again. Back and forth, he let her in on some of his favorite memories of his youngest brothers, forever etched in his mind as children lost too soon. In the process, he learned Caroline; the precocious girl who got into trouble at every chance offered and avoided the consequences at all costs.

And when she ran out of stories, he did not mind. He told her about Kol and Rebekah and Finn and he did not let the ache of regret get to him; instead, he talked until he could laugh and smile and say their names without thinking of all the ways they had been wronged by him or Niklaus or their parents.

Caroline hung on to every word, her eyes bright, her laugh easy, and her smile encouraging.

He avoided talking about Niklaus; he loved his brother, dearly so, but he feared that bringing him up would somehow conjure him. Here was Elijah's escape, _she _was his freedom, and he refused to let even Niklaus' memory taint that.

…

Some days, he was surprised by how close they had grown. Every morning for two weeks, he made his way to her and every time he left, he wished for the next sunrise to arrive sooner. The dancing was fun, but it was talking to her that he enjoyed most. If there was one thing Caroline was not, it was lacking in questions.

"Have you ever married?" She paused, her brows knit. "_Are _you married?"

He cast an eye to her and frowned. "No." He smiled slowly. "I'm not sure how a wife would appreciate my being here with you…"

"I'm certain she would trust you." She nodded, peering over at him. "Marriage survives on trust, does it not? What do you have with each other if you cannot trust that you will always be honest and true to one another?"

She spoke with such certainty that he was momentarily jealous of the man who would win her hand in marriage, for she would not let him have it unless he was deserving.

She sighed then, wrinkling her nose. "Of course, that could be the silly ramblings of a girl who lives in a fantasy where love matters more than anything… So my father says."

He eyed her a moment before reaching out and taking her hand, her fingers now quite familiar with his own. He brought her to him, spinning her as he did, enjoying the way she smiled lightly and let him dance her around the grass.

Finally, he brought her to his side.

"Whomever you love will be a lucky man indeed, Caroline," he said against her ear, his breath rustling her hair.

He could hear her breath stutter and turned his eyes to meet hers.

"I hope so," she whispered.

For a long time, there was silence, with her standing in the embrace of his arm, his cheek pressed to her soft hair, and the pitter-patter of her heart echoing in his ears. He read the hope in her eyes; the hope that had built with every passing day, every moment shared between them, that he felt himself returning with little fight.

She wanted him to be that man.

He wished he could be.

…

On the fifteenth day, he woke and dressed and nodded his hello to the servants who never commented or questioned why he was up so early or where he was going. Niklaus often slept in, his bed pillowed with however many women he had decided to entertain the night before, trying to chase away his anger at how slowly his search for the doppelgänger was going.

He stood watching as the sun went from black to purple to pink, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, listening to the chirp of the birds and the rustling of the wildlife. He could hear the faint sound of her heartbeat as she approached in the distance. He could pinpoint hers alone, distinct from all others; a beautiful staccato that always seemed to stutter when he smiled at her.

The fiery sun rose, casting its warm glow over all it touched, the trees turning from black, gnarled shadows to blooming green and earthy brown. He dropped his gaze as he heard her footsteps hurry, his mouth hitching up on one side. He bent as he spotted a daisy, wet with morning dew. He plucked it from the grass and twirled it between his fingers, turning just as she stepped out from the woods, face brightening happily.

"For you," he said, holding it aloft.

Caroline crossed the grass and accepted it as though it were worth far more than it could ever be. She reached up and tucked it behind her ear before she tipped her head back to gaze at him. "You grow more handsome every time I see you," she told him.

He laughed. "And you care even less for propriety each time we meet," he returned.

"We are on Caroline and Elijah land… No use for propriety," she reminded, moving to circle him, her hands clasped behind her back.

"That is a pretty dress," he commented, his eyes following her. "Is it new?"

Her nose wrinkled as she looked down at it. "Yes. It is… My father bought it for me."

His head quirked, brow furrowed at the strain of her voice. "It is quite fetching on you… Do you not like it?"

"On the contrary." She spun, letting the fabric swish around her. "I love pretty things…" She smiled. "It is not often I get them, but when I do, I relish them." Her expression dimmed as she stared down at her dress. "This one I care little for, however…" She chewed her lip. "It— It seems my father thinks I am of age to begin looking for suitors and thinks a new gown will help to catch the eye of my future husband."

Elijah's smile faded. "Suitors," he repeated.

Caroline shook her head and forced a cheerful smile. "This is where we come to be happy, is it not?" She reached for his hands and tugged him forward. "Let us forget what is required of us…"

He pulled her to a stop though and she looked up at him, her brow furrowed worriedly.

His hand rose in answer, smoothing away the wrinkle of her forehead with his thumb, letting it then dip down to trace the curve of her nose. "You have taught me plenty," he told her.

And it was true; he had long forgotten what embarrassment felt like when it came to dancing. She had yet to convince him out of his boots, but he joined her as she frolicked, reaching for the clouds and that intangible freedom that came with it.

Caroline's expression was stricken and it brought his hand to her cheek, stroking.

"It is my turn to teach you…"

Her brows arched in surprise.

He lifted her hands into the air and pressed his own to them. "There are rules," he told her. "Many of them." He nodded. "There is bowing and steps that have to be followed. It is meant to be elegant, refined…"

She let him move her where she needed to be, let him teach her, but she watched him all the while curiously. "You like rules, do you not, Elijah?"

"They have served me well," he agreed.

"You live by a code of honor and that requires that you and those you trust follow those rules…"

He stared at her thoughtfully. "Yes, it does."

She smiled vaguely. "Then why do you spend your mornings here, with me? When all I ever want to do is escape?"

"There are some rules that I am bound by… and wish not to be," he responded honestly. He adjusted her elbow as they circled one another, his arm tucked at his back. "Days when I wish things outside of this clearing were as easy as they are inside of it."

She gazed at him a long moment before finally nodding. "Perhaps God's will is that we found this place then, and each other in it."

Elijah was very certain that after all the death his hands were bloody with, God would not grant him any such luxury, but Caroline seemed to take to the idea. She grinned widely and, forgetting all about the dance they were practicing, took his hand and stepped closer to him. "My grandmother used to tell me that there was one person in the world for everyone, that they were fated, like soul mates…" She stared up at him excitedly. "Perchance you are mine and I am yours."

The sun made her hair look even shinier than usual, glinting like spun gold, falling in gentle curls down her back.

"I should be so lucky," he murmured, the very idea weighing heavy on his heart.

She cupped his face between her hands and shook her head slowly. "If the suitors my father searched for were any like you, I would not fear my future… I would welcome it."

In that moment, Elijah felt fiercely protective of her; he wanted nothing more than to be the man she wanted, to be the husband her father thought to provide for her. But he was not a regular man; he was not a man at all. He was a vampire, a soulless creature, and he could not force his blackened life on her. Nor could he allow Niklaus to know of her existence or his feelings for her.

"I trust that your father will make the right choice for you, Miss Caroline," he told her, despite the twist of his stomach. "A woman such as you deserves only the best."

He could see as she withdrew, as she took his words for rejection, and her fingers curled, biting into her palms, before she pulled back from him, taking one step and then another. Her eyes fell to the grass below and she nodded. "I should return. Mother is likely wondering where I am." She forced a smile and curtsied for him. "I thank you for the dance, Mister Elijah… It was my pleasure."

All he heard was 'farewell.'

She turned then and walked to the edge of the clearing, slipping her feet into her shoes. She paused only once, reached up, and tugged the daisy from her hair. She let it sit in her palm a moment and stared at it long and hard before finally turning her hand over and letting it drift to the ground.

He closed his eyes as she left, refusing to watch her go for the first time since he had laid eyes on her. He could not watch her leave, knowing it was likely she would not return.

He wished, more than anything, that the complications of life outside their clearing had not entered it. He wished they had simply danced and laughed and been free, together.

But his wish was not to be.

[**Next**: Part II.]

* * *

**Author's Note**:_ Phew! Finally, I can start posting this. Literally, from the moment I started writing this, I already wanted it to be posted, haha._

_Special shout-out to **Shannon** (itsvolcanoday) for being such an incredible beta and helping me to fix all of the hiccups that came with writing this and just generally being a fantastic person to bounce ideas off for both this and my Steroline re-write. And also to the ever-amazing **Mel** (dhfreak) who made the stunning (as usual) poster for this story before I'd ever posted it and only on a few vague details, because she is just THAT fantastic. Also a huge thank you to everybody who is giving this a chance despite not generally being a Carlijah reader, as all of my previous TVD stories were Steroline (except for my crossover Damon/Chloe Sullivan, and Stefan/Chloe Sullivan stories) and we can all be pretty particular about our ships! And of course, to all of you who've read because you actually are Caroline/Elijah fans (yay us!) and decided to read my story of your own volition._

_I really hope you enjoyed this and will continue to with everything I have coming! I loved writing Elijah; he's a wonderfully complex and genuinely good character and it's been lovely to pick him apart in this. I look forward to reading your reviews and seeing how you like it, what stuck out for you, whether you're excited for more, and premonitions for where I might be going are always fun! ;)_

_For any of you who are worried about an update on **Second Chance**, I'll be working on it this weekend and will have it in with Shannon as soon as I can. Don't worry!_

_So thank you, I appreciate your reading and please do leave a review!_

**-Lee | Fina**


	2. Part II

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 7,772  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**II.**

Elijah returned the next morning and the next, but he did not find Caroline. He considered the possibility that she was dancing at another time, avoiding him, but after spending a whole day at the clearing, from sunrise to sunset, he could neither see her nor hear her heartbeat anywhere near to it. He twisted the stem of a daisy in his fingers and felt the ache of remorse in his unbeating heart.

The longer he went without seeing her, the more agitated he became; with his brother, the search, and any who chose to speak to him.

"You have the servants fearful of you, brother," Niklaus told him, smirking quite happily. "It is usually me they cringe from, but you have them shaking in their boots…" He chuckled as he used a knife to saw away at his dinner, a bleeding chunk of pork that dribbled down his chin as he bit into it.

Glowering, he tried his best to ignore his brother's prodding, keeping his attention on his meal, lest he lash out further.

"What has you so angry of late, hm?" he queried, brows furrowed. "Is it the search that is getting to you?"

"The search with no end, you mean?" he finally snapped, raising his eyes to Niklaus, an eyebrow arched. "How many years have we spent chasing this? How many leads have turned out false? How many women have you killed, all because they dared to look too much like Tatia and raised your hopes?"

Niklaus' good mood soured quickly as he dropped his cutlery with a clang, knotting his fingers in front of his mouth, his brow furrowing. "I would venture to guess five centuries… Too many leads…" He shrugged, sitting back in his chair. "And what do I care about the women? What do _you _care about them?" He laughed shortly, mockingly. "Are you becoming soft-hearted, Elijah?"

He grit his teeth and sighed, turning his gaze away. What was he supposed to say to that? Yes. Yes, his heart had softened, _melted_ even, over a silly girl who danced barefoot in the forest. How utterly ridiculous.

"Of course not," he dismissed.

"Good. Then you will not mind tonight's entertainment." He snapped his fingers.

Moments later, women hurried into the room, all of them prettily dressed, excited, their eyes hazy with compulsion. Two approached Niklaus, eager to please him, baring their necks or handing him a wrist. And like he always did, Niklaus took.

He took their blood and their innocence, their ability to cry out or turn him away.

Elijah watched the blood roll down his brother's chin, dripping to wet his tunic.

Niklaus never regretted what he was, he enjoyed every depraved second of it.

To Elijah's thinking, Niklaus was the darkness in the world, the shadows that promised agony. Caroline, in contrast, was Elijah's light; she filled up every bereft space with her glow. Where Niklaus stood as the grim figure of death, smirking upon his victims maniacally, dragging Elijah along with him, Caroline was the hopeful promise that life was possible. She was the soft hand that reached out and pulled Elijah from the trudging footsteps he kept behind his brother, ever dutiful, and instead showed him a new path. Where his brother was the chains that stayed him, Caroline was the wings that offered Elijah freedom.

But Caroline would wed another; she would love him, bear his children, and grow old, forgetting Elijah, their dancing, and the clearing that was their own.

He felt a hand smooth over his chest and raised his head to see a woman with wheat yellow hair and pale blue eyes. The veins rippled beneath his blood-black eyes and he felt his teeth lengthen. She was not Caroline; she did not glow.

He sunk his teeth into her wrist, tearing the soft flesh there until it flowed easily into his mouth.

He would not heal her until she was nearly limp with death, her knees giving out as she sunk to the floor next to him, her head on the arm of his chair, never flinching or putting up a fight. She simply watched, a displaced smile on her lips, as he drained her.

He let her drink from his hand until he was sure she would not die, and then he left his brother to entertain the rest.

He climbed the stairs to his room and paced the length of it, running a hand through his hair with agitation.

He never should have spoken to Caroline, never engaged her to become his dancing partner. Where she would move on and forget him, he would not. He would carry the memory of her for eternity; comparing every woman he met with her, woefully disappointed when they did not glow or smile or laugh or dance like she did.

And he missed her. Desperately, he did. He missed the man he was in the clearing and how he felt when she looked at him. He missed her incessant questions and his desire to answer all of them. He missed the perfume of her hair and the soft skin of her hands touching his.

His frame shook with barely restrained anger; with his brother, himself, and even Caroline.

Because he would stay, he would do his duty, and the last thing he would remember of her was the shattered expression on her face as she let the daisy drift to the grass.

…

Every night, in what appeared to be an effort to cheer him up, Niklaus ended dinner with dessert; a parade of beautiful, compelled women. Like the first night, Elijah would find a blonde beauty amongst them, from whom he would drink fiercely, shredding their skin with his teeth before healing them and sending them off, just shy of death.

Resentment poisoned him. It was not fair that he should find happiness and be unable to enjoy it. He was indebted to his brother; he had to stay by his side and help him. But so much of him, centered quite painfully in his chest, wanted to run away, to seek out freedom and live in that clearing with just Caroline. To rebuff responsibility and live for himself for once; was that really so much to ask?

Every day for two and a half weeks, he returned to the clearing hoping to find her and left disappointed. And with every day, he felt a metaphorical nail in his coffin.

On the seventeenth day, he heard her heartbeat.

His head was tipped, letting the reaching light of the sun warm him, when the familiar sound of her heart could be heard just out of reach. He could have waited; perhaps she would come, dance with him, pretend everything was as it had been. But after not seeing her for so long, he was tired of waiting. He made his way deeper into the forest and followed the sound of her heart. He knocked reaching tree branches out of his face, leapt over dead, fallen logs, and ran as fast as his abilities would allow him, until finally he found her sitting on the shore of a lake, the cool water lapping near but not close enough to touch her. She had her arms wrapped around her knees, her dress pooling on the dirt, while her hair was plaited intricately down her back.

She was humming, a tune that was unfamiliar to him.

He walked closer, careful to be quiet, and leaned against a tree, simply watching, listening, remembering distinctly that first time he had stumbled upon her.

She opened her mouth to sing, whispering the lyrics at first, until her voice grew stronger, deeper, wrought with emotion. She had a stunning voice; he had never heard anything so beautiful, so desperately laced with pain. And the glow, the glow that never seemed to leave her, grew as her voice rose, as she closed her eyes and let her heart sing.

He listened intently, his arms crossed loosely over his chest, his jaw clenched tight.

When she finished, letting a long, sad note hang in the air, he crossed the dirt shore to her.

"Caroline…"

Her head whipped toward him, her eyes wide, and she hurriedly reached up to wipe her cheeks of the tears that had fallen. She stood to meet him, stumbling back a few steps as he moved closer.

"Elijah… What…" She shook her head in confusion. "What are you doing so far into the woods?"

"I _missed _you," he admitted, his eyes falling momentarily. "I waited for you in the clearing."

Her lips pursed and her eyes darted away. "I have been busy. With my father and his… renewed efforts to have me wed, I'm sadly lacking in the time to dance…" She frowned. "Or the desire to."

His brow knit. "Have you spoken to your father about your disinterest in marriage?"

She smiled faintly. "He has no ears for me… I hardly see him as it is. He spends most of his days with his hunting partner, Stephen. He… He believes it is his _duty_ and I'm well of age… Perhaps he is right. You said yourself that rules are important. It could be time that I… I stop running away and face my fate." Her face fell and she dropped her gaze to the ground. Sighing, she moved to walk past him, turning her head to say, "I hope that… whatever it was that you wished you were not tied to, whatever it is that is holding you back… I hope you find your way free of it."

He would not see her again, he knew. If he let her walk away then she would not return to the woods, would not be within reach for him to find. She was hurt and embarrassed, and being around him only made it worse. But he had spent the last sixteen days wishing things were different; that _he _was different. And he could not do it again; he did not want to. A week was enough to tell him that Caroline had burrowed into his heart and made herself comfortable. He woke each morning wanting nothing more than to see her smile.

Just as she reached the trees, he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

Her pulse stuttered as she turned to look at him, daring to hope.

"You asked me once, what my favorite part of the day was…" He stared into her eyes searchingly. "It was every second spent with you, Caroline."

She swallowed tightly and slowly, oh so slowly; she stepped closer until they were nearly chest to chest. She reached up, her palm pressing to his cheek before her fingers slid up and into his hair, trailing down through brown curls, her thumb tracing the sharp angle of his cheek.

She leaned up, standing on the tips of her toes, and brought her face so close to his that he could feel her breath skitter over his lips. He released her arm, wrapping his own around her waist, his hand spread out over her back, and pulled her to him, until she was pressed flat against his body. Her heartbeat skipped, and he counted the freckles that littered her nose before his lips were on hers, slanting.

She inhaled sharply as her lips parted for his. Her brow furrowed as his tongue stroked its way inside her mouth, as he kissed her with all the pent up passion he had been trying to ignore since the morning he found her. He suckled her lips and waited, smiling as she mimicked him, learned from him, and tested what he liked. She nipped lightly with her teeth and soothed it with her tongue, her fingers twisting and tugging at his hair, pulling him nearer. His hand buried itself at the nape of her neck, cradling, stroking, unwilling to let her go, while the other smoothed over her hip and around her back.

For several minutes, that was all they were, just a mesh of hands and mouths. They traded thick breaths as they moved together, gripping, tugging, holding on desperately. Finally, he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes closed, and listened to her heart as it raced, pounding hard inside her chest. He traced the soft line of her jaw with his fingers and let them dance down her neck, feeling her pulse beneath.

"I fear your lack of propriety has encouraged my own," he told her, his voice thick. He opened his eyes to gaze upon her flushed face.

She laughed, her eyes crinkling as they did when she was truly happy. She leaned in and kissed him again; a sweet, short kiss that left him wanting more, left him chasing her lips for another.

"And outside our clearing, too," she reminded, her eyebrows raised.

"I had many more dances I wanted to teach you." He stroked his fingers down the side of her face, watching her eyes dart over his.

"We will begin again tomorrow," she told him, biting her lip to hide her grin.

"Tomorrow." He nodded, reaching for her lips once more. "What shall we do with this morning then, I wonder…"

She laughed, the sound muffled as their mouths met; it melted into a moan.

…

Elijah returned the next morning to find she was already there, waiting for him, wearing a daisy in her hair and a smile on her lips. She stretched her hands toward him. "Let us dance," she said joyfully.

And so they did, though he did not think she learned much with how often they would get tangled with one another. She ignored steps in favor of leaning up and kissing him impulsively before twisting and turning away. "I will steal as many as you let me," she warned, dancing out of reach.

He caught her fingers and twirled her back into his arms, her back to his chest, a soft laugh leaving her. He pressed his mouth to her ear and promised, "Then I will always let you."

She turned her head back to look at him and covered his hands stacked atop her stomach with one of her own. The other rose to bury itself in his hair, tangling in his curls. "Can we stay here?" She shook her head. "And never leave."

"If only it were that simple," he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair and closing his eyes.

If only.

…

Elijah stole morning after morning with her; one week and then two passed, and while he reveled in each moment, he wondered how long they could keep it a secret.

He sat with his back against a tree, legs stretched out, crossed at the ankle. She rested her head in his lap as she plucked the petals off a flower. He stroked her hair, letting it sift through his fingers.

"Have you ever been in love before?" she wondered, eyes still set on the petals that puddled on her stomach as they fell.

He did not answer right away, his eyes turning off as he remembered Tatia, with her sunkissed skin and long dark hair; beauty unmet within their small village. He returned his gaze to Caroline, who had tipped her head to look at him curiously.

"Once," he answered her. "Or…" He frowned, brow knit. "I believed myself to be." He fingers drew small circles on her temple. "There are days I do not believe love truly exists."

Her lips pursed briefly. "Is today one of those days?"

"No…" He reached for one of her discarded petals and dragged the tip of it down the length of her nose, happy as she smiled. "Today, I believe."

…

Niklaus continued his _dessert_ parties, but Elijah was absent from them, leaving his brother to drain, use, and discard the women he compelled to his side.

Sometimes he saw them as he made his way to his room and he felt fear eat away at his gut; Niklaus would think nothing of having Caroline do the same. The women who stood idly by, waiting to be drained, were as innocent as she was.

But he turned his back and climbed the stairs.

"_It is our nature_," he could hear Niklaus laughing in his head.

That. That was why Caroline was too good for him.

He was, and would forever be, a monster.

There was no changing it.

…

"Do you miss your family?" she wondered one morning, when he knew himself to be more pensive than usual. Sneaking away was taking its toll, and he believed Niklaus was becoming suspicious.

He looked over at her, his brows raised in surprise.

Half-smiling, she reached up and soothed his brow with her fingers. "I can always tell when you are thinking about them… You make a specific face."

"Do I?" His eyes fell in thought. "And what face do I make, if I might ask?"

Her lips turned down at the corners. "Sad," she said simply before turning to drift away, rubbing her bare toes against the wet grass.

He walked to her, reached an arm around, and pressed a hand to her stomach, drawing her back against his chest. "Then you must notice… that when I think of you, I am only happy," he said, his voice rough against her ear.

She turned her chin up to look at him, smile returning. "I _have_ noticed that."

He pressed a kiss to her temple before resting his cheek against her hair, letting his eyes fall closed as he merely cradled her, and let her presence soothe the ache of his fractured family.

…

His every moment was consumed with her; he wanted only to be in the woods, in the clearing, in her presence.

Nothing else mattered.

…

"And where are you off to so early, brother?" Niklaus' booming voice echoed throughout the room.

Elijah stiffened. He turned to face him, his brow furrowed. "I did not expect to see you leave your bedroom so early…"

He waved a dismissive hand. "One of my bedmates passed in the night; her foul scent roused me." He walked toward him, spinning a goblet of blood in one hand. "Do not think I have not noticed how eager you are to leave." He smirked. "Have you loosened your chastity belt and found someone to ease your frown?"

He pursed his lips and looked away. "I am merely meeting with a messenger… I know how eager you are to learn of any important news…" He raised an eyebrow. "Would you like to come along? I fear this one is not as reliable as some of the others, but we _did_ agree not to leave any stone unturned."

Elijah was careful, maneuvering his brother as easily as a pawn on a chessboard. He had enough practice over the years that he could usually anticipate how Niklaus would react and what he would do. While he wanted the search to rank first, he too tired of hearing bad news. He left that up to Elijah and would, as he always did, dismiss Elijah to deal with what was likely an empty lead, unintentionally freeing him to carry on his usual morning routine without rousing Niklaus' suspicions.

Scowling, Niklaus shook his head. "You go. I will have my bedroom aired and find something to eat in the meantime." He waved a hand. "Call for me if you find anything, of course."

"Certainly." Elijah nodded, waiting and watching as his brother left him, snapping his fingers for a servant to do his bidding.

Elijah watched until he was out of sight before he turned on his heel and started for the door.

He had to use his speed to get through the woods to reach her before the sun had completely risen. He liked to be there before her; he had warned her not to enter the woods before the sun had risen enough to guide her but she rarely listened. She was too breakable, too precious to him for her to be venturing into the woods alone, where any number of creature, natural and unnatural, could attack.

He was relieved to find she had not arrived yet and even more so to hear her steady heartbeat as she approached. He grinned as she stepped into the clearing, something held in her hand.

"I have brought you a present," she said in greeting.

"You are present enough," he returned, crossing the grass toward her, his hand smoothing over her hip, affectionate and familiar, drawing her against him.

She smiled, tipping her head back. "Take my gift anyway," she said, raising what appeared to be a flag, stitched by her own hand. "It is to mark our land," she explained proudly.

His brows furrowed as he took the whittled stick from her hand, a blue square with a white daisy stitched on it.

Her nose wrinkled. "I'm afraid my hand is not as steady as my mother's."

"It is perfect," he reassured before releasing her so he could stake the stick in the ground, the breeze catching the flag enough to make it rustle.

"I should hope so… I spent three nights on it." She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I pricked my finger more than once."

"Did you?"

She hummed, nodding. "I have the battle wounds to prove it." She wiggled her hand for him to see, a few healing red scrapes at the end of her finger.

He stared a moment at the torn flesh. Her blood no longer soiled her skin, but for a moment all he could think of was how it would bead there, easy for him to flick his tongue out for a taste. How natural it would be to puncture her fingertip even now and suck it between his lips, dripping what little he could collect onto his tongue, savoring it. He blinked abruptly and forced himself away from that thought. As if to prove to himself that he was not hungry for the taste of her blood, he brought her hand up to his mouth, stroking her knuckles and pressing her fingertip to his lips, kissing the pad. "There," he said, rubbing it with his thumb.

Her lips stretched in a smile, completely unaware of the battle he had undergone. "You are too kind to me."

"Perhaps it is a ploy so you never see fit to leave me." He turned her hand over and, testing his own resolve, he kissed her palm and then her wrist and, pushing the sleeve of her dress up to the crook of her elbow, he let his lips wander across her forearm, teeth scraping lightly. He wanted to bite her, that he could not deny, but he was strong enough to fight the urge. With every kiss, he further proved this to himself.

She shivered, her eyes hooded. He watched as her pupils dilated, focused intensely on the progress his lips were making on her supple skin.

"Elijah…?" she murmured.

He dragged his fingertips down her arm, enjoying the way her whole body reacted, before he slid his arm around her waist and bowed his head to show her he was listening.

"Have you bedded many women?" she queried.

His eyes widened slightly.

Truth be told, with how long he had been alive, the number was quite large, not that he kept a tally. But he could imagine that it was not easily scoffed at. So instead, he answered, "Few that I cared for…" He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. "Even fewer I remember fondly."

Her eyes fell, not sure what to make of his words. "My mother says it is a man's way to lay with as many women as he can, regardless of affection… That even after marriage, he may seek another's warmth."

"I am loyal to those I love," he told her seriously.

She raised her eyes to meet his. "Then I will woo you until no other could compare in your eyes," she told him, grinning.

"Oh will you?"

She laughed, nodding her head as she reached her fingers up to trace his face. "I will have you so lovesick that only my _name_ will bring you to tears."

He guffawed. "Tears?" His brows hiked. "And you would find that a handsome quality?"

"In my honor?" She nodded swiftly. "The _handsomest!_" she teased.

"You want that I should weep for your beauty…" He gathered her in close, his hands spread across her back, his forehead falling to meets hers. "When already I lie awake desperate for your kiss."

Her hand gripped his shoulder. "Perhaps not in tears, but in words..." She met his eyes. "Are you so lovesick, Elijah?"

"From the moment you laughed at me, dancing here, making a mockery of your free spirit," he answered, fingers furling tight in her hair. "But I'm not worthy of you…" He shook his head.

"Am I not smart enough to make that conclusion on my own?" she asked, in that tone of voice that said she would be willing to fight him on the subject. For such a delicate woman in appearance, she could be quite stubborn.

"You do not have all of the necessary information, little one."

"Then you will share it with me," she told him decisively. "You will tell me everything of who you are and I will decide for myself who is and is not worthy."

He clenched his teeth, imagining the fear in her face if that were to happen. "To tell you would be to sentence myself to a life without you."

"You do not know that for certain…" She reached behind herself and took one of his hands, pulling it around to press against her chest, where her beating heart lay. "What I know of you, I love… You say you are loyal, and so am I." She stared up at him, her expression serious. "Give me a chance to prove it."

His fingers curled, brushing against the soft skin of her chest, a contrast to the fabric of her dress, which was rough under his palm.

Her heart thumped heavy under his fingers and loud in his ears; again he was struck, thinking of nothing but the warm rush of blood spreading throughout her body. He slid his hand up and around the back of her neck. His teeth throbbed in his mouth but he beat back the urge and instead leaned down to kiss her, rougher than he had in the past, teeth scraping and nipping, his arms banding around her, keeping her tight to him, possessive, desperate with the fear that if she knew everything, she would flee, and well she should.

But he did not let her go or share his past, his true nature; he simply kissed her. He kissed her until the morning was spent and she was forced to leave him to return to her mother. Her lips swollen and her cheeks pink and her eyes a little dazed, she walked off into the forest, smiling.

He watched her go and wished for a day when neither would have to leave the other.

…

When he fell asleep each night, it was to a smile that he would wake and see her. But he woke with a frown.

Nightmares that Caroline had been compelled to join Niklaus in the parlor with his hordes of victims haunted Elijah.

Each night, he dreamt of her standing there, scared at first, the heartbeat he knew so well hammering away in terror. And then Niklaus would reach for her, smiling that smirk of his, simultaneously sinister and charismatic. He would compel her to be calm, to enjoy it, to let him drink as long and as deeply as he wished.

Elijah dreamt of waking to find her body on the floor next to his chair, his breakfast waiting, steaming on the table, a careless Niklaus waiting for him.

And then he would wake, his eyes wide, gasping for breath, shaking with the image of her pale, lifeless body etched in his mind.

His fault.

Her death would be his fault.

…

She was angry, pacing, tugging at her hair, tears shimmering in her eyes.

His hands balled into fists, a righteous fury burning in his chest, wanting to tear apart whoever dared cause her pain. "Caroline…" He walked to her, reaching for her face.

She hiccupped on a deep breath and a tear spilled down her cheek, caught by his thumb. "My father has n-narrowed his search… He has three suitors in mind; mother says it will not be long now. I _begged_ him to reconsider but he only became angry with my resistance… I—I do not want to disappoint him, I _do not!_ But I fear I will never love them… _Whomever_ he chooses to be my husband."

Gripping Elijah close, she bent her face to his chest, her shoulders shaking.

He rubbed her back soothingly, rocking her in his arms, his chin pressed against her hair. The idea… The very idea that she might marry another caused his gun to clench painfully. That another man would touch her, would bury himself between her legs and take his comfort. That she might bear his child and grow old by his side. Veins spidered out from beneath his blood-black eyes and his teeth elongated in his mouth. This faceless man, this suitor that wanted his Caroline's hand in marriage… He would tear his throat out and bathe in his blood.

Caroline's hands slid around to his back and she rubbed her face up his chest. "Elijah," she whispered.

Immediately, he felt the lust for blood begin to fade. He breathed her in, that sweet scent he knew so well, and nodded. "Yes?"

"I will not give myself to him…" She squeezed her arms around him. "I will not give myself to someone I do not love."

He leaned his head back to look at her; she was calm once more, though her cheeks were still flushed and wet, her chin resting on his chest. She slid her hands up, pressed them to his shoulder blades and raised her head, staring at him searchingly. He could read in her face what she asked of him, and he did not have the strength to keep either of them from it.

He helped her with her dress, unlacing the back and stripping it slowly down her body. She had the softest skin; untouched, unblemished. He took his time, massaging her shoulders until she no longer felt as tensed as a bow string.

She drew her hair forward over one shoulder and he kissed down her exposed neck, across her shoulder, as he tugged the sleeves free of her hands and the red fabric of her dress fell to hang at her waist. She pulled her white underclothes down to join it, slowly, uncertainly, revealing her pale breasts. Her arms rose to nervously cover her chest as his large hands spanned her waist. He tugged her back until she was flush with his chest and raised his hands to smooth over her arms, rubbing his thumbs into the corner of her elbows and down, down, tracing the soft underside of her arms and the pulse at her wrists.

She loosened her arms, leaning against him, and finally let them drift away; his hands stayed, cupping her breasts, kneading gently, his thumbs delicately circling the puckered, pink flesh of her nipples. Her breath hitched and she arched her back, pressing herself closer to his touch. His lips wandered up her neck, sucking at her pulse, his teeth nipping at her skin. The lust to have her body and to have her blood warred once more and he felt his teeth throb in his mouth, desperate to pierce her skin and suckle the blood that leaked down her pristine, white neck. He closed his eyes tight and let out a shuddering breath, pushing the clawing need back. He had not been a man for many years, identifying as the monster that fought for power inside him, but here, with Caroline, a man was exactly what he would be.

His eyes opened suddenly as her hands covered his, fingers interlacing, and hesitantly followed his movements with him. She was a novice, yes, but he bared witness to her curious desire and the trust she placed in him to help her explore it. As tension fled from her, he felt his own ebb. He could not help but appreciate that, though she was unfamiliar with sex, she was a sensual person by nature.

One of his hands slid away and down her stomach, tickling her just below her navel before delving beneath the fabric of her dress and underthings to cup her mound. His fingers stroked between the wet lips of her sex, teasing her before rubbing her clit.

She let out a shuddering moan, her thighs squeezing. Elijah reached down to tug at her skirts, drawing her dress down her hips until it pooled at her feet. His hand slid down to grip her thigh and pull it open, lifting it from beneath so he could better touch her.

"Elijah," she said, both pleading for more and confused by her desire.

"Have you ever touched yourself, Caroline?" he wondered, as her fingers followed his but did not move, hesitant atop his as they spread her, rubbing circles.

"I—I have," she admitted breathlessly. "But not…" She shook her head. "It was not the same sen—sensation."

"What does it feel like?" He nuzzled her neck, inhaling the heady scent of her skin and arousal, mixing in the cool morning air.

"Strange…" Her brow furrowed. "Pleasant strange, like…" She licked her lips, her body shaking as his thumb circled her clit. "Warm and heavy and… and I—I can hardly think, I…" She trailed off on a moan, her head falling back to his shoulder, eyes half-lidded. She was panting, her face screwed up with concentration, as she became completely distracted by his fingers moving smoothly, rocking her hips, trying to gain pressure, to bring herself closer to his fingers as they brought pleasure only to take it away. She reached her arm back, fingers burying in his hair, and tugged lightly, impatiently.

He chuckled against her cheek and focused his attention on her clit, strumming until she gave a cry and shook against him. He watched her face, her mouth opened wide, her brow knit, cheeks flushed. She was stunning.

Before she had even opened her eyes, he had laid her down on her back with her dress as a cushion between her skin and the wet grass. It was not much and he would rather a bed, but they had not planned for this.

Caroline stretched like a cat, smiling widely, looking a little delirious with bliss. He shed his own clothes before joining her, kneeling at her side. She opened her eyes to look up at him as he trailed his fingers from her raised knee down her thigh, resting his palm at her hip, thumb stroking her skin. She was so soft and delicate.

Cupping his hands beneath her knees, he spread them further apart as he crawled between her thighs.

"Elijah?"

"Did you enjoy my fingers, Caroline?" he asked, his voice deeper, heavier, and he watched, satisfied as she gave a little shiver before nodding at him. "You will enjoy this even more…" he promised.

He kissed down her leg, his fingers scrubbing along the underside; she twitched, ticklish. He smoothed his hands around, his thumbs on her hipbones, and followed them down toward the apex of her thighs. He parted the lips of her sex and watched her from dark eyes as he bent his mouth to her, tongue delving for one long stroke. She tasted sweet, tangy; he pressed suckling kisses to her, his nose rubbing against her clit from time to time.

She nearly closed her legs on his head in surprise, her back arching up, mouth dropped open in both surprise and pleasure. He slid one hand up to cup her breast, kneading, thumb circling and flicking one pale, pink nipple. He bent his other arm around her thigh, hand pressing against the inside to hold her open. She was so responsive, murmuring nonsense and encouragements, and reaching down to grip his hair and dig her nails into his shoulders.

He had dreamt of this since the moment he met her; of sinking inside her, keeping that dreamy smile of hers for himself, making her see stars as he brought her to new heights, as he showed her the intimate world of which she was unaware. It meant more now, however. Before, it had been sex; wanting her, desiring her and all that she entailed. Now, it was deeper, it was personal. He knew things about her he had been careful never to learn about previous lovers. Personal things, about her dreams and her beliefs and what made her laugh and smile. He knew her fears and how her kisses changed depending on her mood. He knew her different laughs, from her giggle to her scoff to the deep belly-laugh that escaped with true mirth.

He loved her. How he felt about Tatia paled in comparison to Caroline. His sweet, dancing beauty. What he would do for her… How he would defy what he had always done, his responsibilities, to be with her, enraptured by her. It should have terrified him and yet, in some unusual way, he felt freer than he ever had before.

She broke against his lips and with his fingers curled inside her, crying his name as she tore her nails down his arms, shaking and panting. He kissed up her stomach, rubbing his wet mouth against her skin before he was atop her, face to face, their noses bumping. She stared up at him, her fingers tracing his brow and his cheeks and the seam of his lips, to which he kissed her fingertips.

"It is going to hurt at first," he warned her, raising his brows, staring searchingly at her face. "We do not have to do this…" He shook his head. "Not today, not here, like this."

She smiled brightly at him, genuinely. "And where better a place for us to make love than in our clearing…? _No_. It will be now, here, and I will carry it with me always." Her voice shook with emotion and her smile began to fade.

He kissed her to keep from seeing it leave. He kissed her until she forgot everything except him, _them_.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, slowly, uncertainly, and he encouraged her with a hand squeezing her thigh before it ran up her side, teasing the curve of her breast.

She winced, squeezing her eyes closed, as he slid inside her, stretching her. She chewed her lip, her forehead wrinkled with discomfort. He kept still at first before moving shallowly, letting her adjust, become used to him. He bent his head to kiss her chest, rubbing his cheek against the swell of her breast. He plucked at her nipples with his teeth and soothed the ache with his tongue. His mouth moved all over her skin, burying at her neck, kissing down her shoulders, following the lengths of her arms. Slowly, he felt her body begin to relax, her thighs loosening their grip on his waist.

He looked up at her, an eyebrow raised in question, and she nodded at him, biting her lip, her eyes still a little wide with uncertainty.

He slid a hand low to rub her clit as he kept his movement steady. She started to respond, rocking her hips to meet him, her hands rubbing up and down his back, fingers gripping, nails scraping. She found a rhythm she liked and a smile broke out over her lips.

He buried his mouth at her neck as she squeezed his waist, encouraging him to move quicker, deeper. He panted against her damp skin, teeth dragging over her pulse. The noises she was making, the fractured cries of his name, her soft body beneath him, so willing, so tight, they were pushing him ever closer to the edge. He pressed his hands down against the ground and felt the earth give under his fingers.

Her heart was loud, pounding in his ears, and he could feel his teeth throb as she quivered around him, clenching as he sunk deep inside her warm, wet walls. He wanted to sink his fangs into her, feel her shatter as he drank from her, but he growled, pushing the need back. He was not sure how long he could manage that, however, and sunk a hand between them, stroking and flicking her clit as he changed the angle of his hips.

He pressed his lips to hers in the same moment she screamed, muffling the noise as she climaxed; he followed after her, helpless against the feel of her squeezing, quivering around him. His kiss turned sloppy, panting into her mouth before he turned and dropped his forehead to her shoulder, one of his hands buried in her hair, soiling it with dirt and grass. She stroked his back, her fingers softly dancing up and down his spine.

When he finally rolled onto his side, relieving her of his weight, and opened his eyes to see her, she was smiling, her head tipped back, as happy as she had been the first time he saw her, reaching for the sky, for some unseen freedom above.

She turned to face him, her smile never fading, and rolled her body onto her side, resting her head on her arm. "Is it always like that?" she wondered.

He shook his head and reached across to brush her hair back from her face. "In time, it will not hurt."

"But the rest of it…" She raised an eyebrow curiously. "The… The _good_ part." She flushed. "Does it always feel that marvelous?"

He chuckled deeply. "With the right person… And when you're well-versed in the art."

She scoffed in laughter, rolling her eyes. "Is that pride I hear in your voice, Elijah?"

He grinned, letting his fingers trail over her shoulder. "Can I not take pride in making you feel good?" His eyes wandered down her comfortably naked body.

She shuffled closer to him, pressing a hand to his chest. "And did I make you feel good?"

He wrapped an arm around her waist, hand pressed to her back. "Like no other could," he told her, leaning his forehead against hers.

She kissed him, sighing, stretching her fingers up to this neck. As she drew back, she kissed him a few more times before ducking her face to his shoulder. "Can we spend the day here, doing nothing but this?"

He nodded silently; he did not think there was any better way to spend this day or any other.

…

The day was growing late when they ventured out to the lake to bathe. Caroline stood waist deep, cupping her hands and filling them with water to wash herself. Her hair was soaked, clinging to her skin. He backstroked lazily, swimming circles around her, watching her every movement. She splashed him in the face, smiling.

"Stop that," she told him.

"And what am I doing that displeases you?" he queried, grinning.

She reached up, tugging her hair loose from her skin and plaiting it down one shoulder. "If you keep looking at me like that, I will not finish bathing and it will be dark before I return home."

"If it grows dark, perhaps you will stay…" He swam toward her and pushed up to his feet, wrapping his dripping arms around her waist. "And we will hide away in the forest, live off the land for a night…" He buried his face at her neck and felt her body shaking with amusement.

"And when my father finds us?" She turned in his arms to face him, reaching up to brush his wet hair back. "How would we explain ourselves?"

Elijah imagined he would just compel him to forget and return home, but he could not rightly tell Caroline that. "He would not catch us…" He shook his head, ducking down until their foreheads touched. "We are free in our clearing, remember?"

"Free to our fanciful dreaming," she mused, sliding her hands up his back. Her smile faded. "I _have_ to return…"

He nodded slowly, though much of him wanted to disagree. He wanted to take her away; far away from her father and his suitors, and Niklaus and his fruitless doppelgänger quest. But he imagined that would only complicate things in the long run. "Tomorrow," he said, rubbing his hands over the small of her back.

"I will meet you there. I promise." She stared up at him meaningfully, her eyes wide, brows hiked.

He kissed her, squeezing her close.

Eventually, with the sun setting in the distance and the cold water beginning to take its toll on her, he pressed a kiss to her shoulder before he picked her up, sending rippling waves in every direction. She squealed in surprise, her arms looping around his neck, and he carried her out of the lake. He only dropped her back on her feet when they reached the soft grass where the lake shore and the forest met; there, he gathered up her clothes and helped her redress. Slowly, savoring every second, every inch of soft skin before it was covered once more.

He walked with her through the woods, their hands knit together, before he could see the village and slowed his steps. She turned toward him, her hands spread over his chest. He tucked a loose curl behind her ear and kissed her, lingering at her lips. Her hands cradled his face, thumbs stroking the arch of his cheeks, before finally she drew back.

"Tomorrow," she told him before turning and making her way toward the village.

He waited until she was out of sight before he turned and fled back to the estate, moving at an inhuman speed. The wistful appreciation of his day faded, smiling fleeing, as he stepped inside the house.

Klaus was busy entertaining a number of women, many of whom were wearing little more than their own blood.

"Brother," he called out, grinning, his teeth and chin stained with blood. "Join me!"

Elijah sighed under his breath. He was beginning to feel like he lived two entirely different lives every day, and the one he witnessed now was not the one he preferred.

[**Next**: Part III.]

**Author's Note**: _I was pleasantly surprised to find a nice little following for this story. I didn't imagine Carlijah had that many followers, in part because I think they've only had one scene together, but I'm quite glad you all enjoy it as much as I do. I've loved writing this story; it's been wonderful to pick apart Elijah's character. I don't usually write in this time period either, so it's been interesting to play with that. Special shout out to **Shannon** (itsvolcanoday) and **Mel** (dhfreak) for being the amazing beta and artist they each are. I cannot express my thanks enough. And to all of you lovely readers and especially the people who left such kind and encouraging reviews, thank you! I hope you enjoyed this one as well and I can't wait to hear feedback on it. It's been quite interesting to write Klaus as such a dark figure and to explore the inner-monster in Elijah as well, since he's not the perfect angel. _

_So thank you for reading, please do leave a review! I hope to have another update next week. I have a chapter in with my beta and another nearly finished._

_ Have a great weekend, lovelies!_

**-Lee | Fina**


	3. Part III

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: PG-13/Teen  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 7,401  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**III.**

"You have been behaving strangely," Niklaus accused, waving the woman in his lap away, careless as she woozily stumbled out of sight. He leaned forward in his seat, staring at his older brother, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What has you so busy of late?"

"You asked me to find the doppelgänger, Niklaus," he reminded, frowning at the goblet of blood that his brother had encouraged one of his companions to drain from her wrist. "It is no easy task meeting with the world's many vampires, all of whom are too conceited for their age and foolhardy enough to think I can be manipulated."

"Well then? Has not any of your hard work paid off?" he demanded.

In truth, he _had_ made some headway. "I have received word from one called Trevor. He says he has seen a woman, remarkably similar to whom we seek… He says that, given time, he could bring her here to meet with you, if you are so inclined."

"And you trust him?"

Elijah raised an eyebrow, his mouth quirked. "Trust is a strong word." He sat back in his chair. "I believe _he _believes he has found the doppelgänger… More so than most I have met in the past."

"There have been many who thought they had her in their possession only to disappoint," he reminded. "Why is this man's belief any different?"

Elijah raised a shoulder and cast his gaze away. "We will only know for certain if he brings her."

Niklaus brooded a long moment, brow furrowed, before finally nodding. "Fine. Have her brought here and we will see if he is so certain. And if he is wrong…" His lips spread in a smirk. "Then he will never make the mistake again… as he will not be _alive_ to do so."

Standing from his seat, Elijah answered simply, "Your understanding nature continues to astound."

Rather than find offense, his brother laughed heartily, leaning back in his seat, elbows resting on the velvet cushioned arms, fingers clasped in front of him. "My _nature _is to maim, kill, and enjoy every second of it…" He stood from his chair and cocked his head. "Tell me, since when does the life of some vampire matter to you? He knows the risk in bringing his lies to our door, and the payment is his life. It sends a message to any other who thinks to waste our time, does it not?"

"It sates your impatience, brother." He turned to stare at him. "Are you not tired of this quest? Of chasing this elusive doppelgänger?"

"I will not rest until I am _whole_," he growled severely. "And I thought you understood that."

"I do. And I have pledged myself to your cause… But that does not mean that I do not grow weary with it."

"Then find something to cheer you up." He smirked once more. "And hope that your latest messenger brings with him good news."

Elijah simply nodded before turning to take his leave.

Niklaus stayed behind, calling for the return of his human woman.

In his bedroom, Elijah undressed and readied for bed, all the while staring at the moon, waiting for the sun to replace it so he could return to his clearing, to his freedom.

…

Elijah left even earlier than he usually did; he was doing his best to avoid Niklaus. While his brother seemed to believe his reasons for leaving so early in the morning, and the destination he had in mind, Elijah knew that Niklaus was clever and would eventually realize the truth of his whereabouts.

Despite his lies, it had provided a good time to bring up an issue that had been weighing heavily on him. It was with relief that he was finally able to put into words how tired he was of hunting for the doppelgänger. He was not surprised, however, when Niklaus simply dismissed his misery. He believed his brother cared about him, without a doubt, Niklaus simply thought more of his own troubles.

Standing in the clearing, with the sun far from rising, Elijah simply walked circles, lost in his thoughts. The flag Caroline had made was stuck in the ground, the fabric rustling with the breeze, and it brought a smile to his face. He walked to it, knelt before it, and reached out to pinch one corner, holding it open as he affectionately examined the lopsided stitching.

He wondered if it would stay there after she married, after she stopped coming to see him and dance barefoot in the grass. Would it fade with age? Grow tattered? Or would she take it with her to remember? His smile fell victim to a disappointed frown. He wanted to isolate it, the flag, the time here, the woman for whom he had fallen. He wanted to keep it all away from the outside world, safe and sound. But Caroline was free to do as she wished, or as free as she could be with her father dictating that she was to be married.

He should not interfere. What future could they have? The only option was to turn her and keep her by his side, but the likelihood of Niklaus approving was small. Regardless, Caroline did not deserve to suffer that fate. Drinking the blood of innocents, possibly slaughtering a few; she was too pure, too clean for that, and he refused to be the one to taint her.

He sat on the wet grass, watching their flag, as the sun slowly made its ascent.

Perhaps it would have been smarter, kinder, to have separated when they first intended to. Perhaps it would have bettered his heart to let her live her life, find a husband, and only remember him fondly from time to time. But when she stepped out from the trees and smiled at him, he knew he would not waste one second he had left with her. He stood to meet her and took her hand. She raised a basket up for him to see.

"I brought us a blanket and food."

"Are we having a picnic?" he wondered, lips tilted with amusement.

While he did not necessarily _need _food outside of blood, he still enjoyed it, which was why the routine of sharing meals with Niklaus was kept up.

"After," she told him, grinning. "I felt a blanket would be more comfortable than my dress." She handed him the basket before reaching up to untie the cloak she had donned against the chilly air.

It did not take long for him to spread out the blanket, or to undress her and lay her back on the much softer fabric. And then it was a tangle of lips and panting, slanting mouths, of her nails dragging down his back and her knees hitched high on his hips, of those little, encouraging cries she made that he was sure would echo in his ears for years to come.

Afterwards, he lay on his back, peering up at the blue sky, hands stacked on his stomach, while she went through the basket of food, feeding him a square of cheese. He nipped lightly at her fingers and she giggled at him before combing her fingers through his hair and searching out something else for them to eat.

She made a small pile of blueberries, strawberries, and grapes on his chest before turning to sit at his hip, resting against his stomach, trading between feeding him fruit and feeding herself.

"Have I ever told you about my brother Niklaus?" he asked, brows furrowed.

She gave it thought before answering, "You have spoken of him in passing, but not in detail."

He nodded shortly, his lips pursed. Reaching for her, he stroked his fingers up and down her arm, taking comfort in her as he struggled to find the right words. "He is… not a bad person, though he was troubled. Our father treated him poorly. I should say that Mikael was my father but he was not Niklaus'; our mother had lain with another man and bore Niklaus because of it… Father resented Niklaus for it and made certain he knew."

"That sounds terrible," Caroline said, her expression pinched.

"It was," he murmured. "I think his hatred did something, poisoned Niklaus… He is my brother and I love him, but some days I wish I did not, so I could leave, turn my back, and not regret it."

Caroline watched him a moment, her countenance softening. Gently, she reached out to trace his face. "You are a good man, Elijah. You value loyalty and honor… It would eat at you to leave him; you would never forgive yourself."

"Perhaps," he allowed, but he could not help how right she was. "He chases a foolish dream and expects that I follow." He stared at her searchingly. "And I do, I have, for far too long…"

She swallowed tightly, her gaze falling. "Is that why you let my father search for a suitor, though you are in love with me?"

"It pains me. I feel sick just thinking of another man…" His teeth clenched tightly. "But I could provide no life for you, Caroline."

"Who says I would not enjoy joining you?" She raised her eyebrows, peering at him curiously. "Whatever it is you search for, I could help, could I not?"

"Trust that I would not lie…" He shook his head. "You would not want to help in this endeavor."

Whoever the doppelgänger was, and should she be in Trevor's possession, her fate was sealed. She would be sacrificed so Niklaus could reach his full potential. Caroline would never want her hands dirty with the death of anyone.

"Perhaps there are things I would not like to do, but I would…" She rested her chin on her hand, spread over his stomach. "To be with you, I would."

"And in loving you, I would not ask it of you." He reached up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, his thumb rubbing the arch of her cheek.

She pursed her lips in a frown. "Then we are at an impasse."

He smiled at her stubborn nature. "Rather than argue, would it not be better to enjoy the time we do have?"

She hummed, turning her eyes away.

He sat up, the last few loose berries rolling off his chest, and cupped her cheek, her head cradled in his lap. "Here, we are free," he reminded, brows raised in emphasis.

Her expression slowly softened and she leaned up to capture his lips, burying a hand in the hair at the nape of his neck. She twisted herself around to seat herself in his lap and leaned him back against the blanket, her bare body stretched across his. Their lips slanted together, harder and more desperate with each passing, and her knees fell to either side of his hips. His hands smoothed over her legs, rubbing his thumbs over her hipbones, before his fingers kneaded up her back, massaging her shoulders briefly. They fled down to cup her buttocks and encourage her to rock against him, rubbing against his cock, already half-erect.

She hummed, drawing back from his lips. "Can I… Can we do that with me… _here_, like this?" she wondered innocently.

He nodded, tipping his chin to catch her lips again. She melted back into him, sliding one of her hands over his chest, leading it down, slowly, uncertainly, before finally wrapping her fingers around his shaft, squeezing experimentally, letting go briefly when he twitched in her grasp. He grunted and slid a hand between them to encourage her touch, wrapping her fingers back around, showing her how to move, what he liked, sliding her fingers over the head of his cock.

It was a few minutes before she sat back on his thighs, licking her lips, and asked him, her body blushing a bright red, "That… _thing_, that you did with your mouth…" She raised an eyebrow and dropped her eyes to his erection. "Can I do that to yours?"

His cock twitched at the mere mention before he gave a jerky nod. He helped her, telling her to mind her teeth. She listened carefully, forehead wrinkled in concentration, her hand still stroking the base. Finally, she leaned down and licked the tip; the air he did not need to breathe fled him immediately, his stomach clenching abruptly. She enveloped the head of his cock with her lips and sucked, her tongue tentatively probing the underside. She slid her lips down, wetting his skin, before letting her hand glide more easily over his shaft as she learned what she was comfortable with, while he simply watched her and fought for control. It was oddly more erotic that he knew he was the only person she had done this for, regardless of her hesitant technique.

Eventually, he stopped her and tugged her up, her knees cradling his hips once more. He kissed her bruisingly, his hand buried in her hair tightly, before pressing his face against her neck. He breathed in deep and dragged his tongue over her pulse, feeling it thrum beneath her satiny skin. He nipped lightly, not enough to break her skin but enough to make her breath hitch and his teeth throb. He wondered briefly if he was playing with fire but his lips closed over her skin regardless. His mouth watered for a taste; to break her skin and let her blood fill his mouth, drown his tongue in her sweet flavor.

He sucked in a deep breath, searching for his hard-earned control. He closed his eyes and listened to her heart as it fluttered, he felt her body tremble with anticipation beneath him, and he remembered the trust Caroline put in him. He kissed her skin reverently, soothingly, and focused instead on his fingers as they probed her slit to see if she was ready for him, finding her warm and wet. At least one hunger could be sated this morning and it would be one she would enjoy. He guided his cock, rubbing the tip against her clit before he pressed inside her. She circled her hips, sliding down his length slowly, still getting used to the stretch and burn. He helped her move, one hand on her hip and the other squeezing her thigh, until she found a rhythm she liked.

He ducked his head down and licked one of her nipples into his mouth, scraping his teeth against it only to soothe it with his tongue. He spread his hands over her back, feeling her shake as she rode him. He kissed up her chest, nuzzling her neck. She was close, he could feel it. He tugged her head down to meet his lips and felt her let go, letting out a gasping shout and squeezing all around him. She was flushed and panting and beautiful. He waited as her hips slowed, still jerking, and turned her over onto her side, hitching her leg up onto his hip.

While she came down, he focused on kissing every available inch of her skin he could reach, his hands running soothingly over her back, her arms, her stomach and breasts. And finally, when he felt her squeeze around him, he started moving, thrusting into her shallowly, pressing his forehead to hers as they lay facing one another. It was slow and lazy and he was determined to make her reach euphoria at least once more before he found his own rapture.

He snaked his fingers between them and rubbed her clit between his thumb and forefinger, all the while taking sipping kisses of her mouth.

Her hand was spread over his stomach, nails digging in, and she cried out, arching her back as she climaxed, her mouth hanging wide, her eyes squeezed shut.

By the time she opened her eyes, she was seated in his lap, her arms around his neck, and his cheek was pressed to her chest, listening to the unsteady beat of her heart. With his head ducked as it was, she could not see how the veins reached from beneath his blood-black eyes, how his breath hissed through his bared fangs as she squeezed around his cock. How easy it would be to turn his head and pierce her breast, to sink his teeth into her soft flesh and drink from her as he thrust hard and deep inside her, licking up the blood from her pale, white skin as he made her scream his name as she climaxed.

She stroked her fingers through his hair lightly, gently, and he let it soothe him, he let himself become lost in her touch. It was a few minutes, listening to her heart as it slowed, before he was certain of his control. He hugged her waist a long moment before letting his hands slide up her back and lift her, moving her on him. She rocked and rolled her hips to meet each of his thrusts. He sucked kisses around the curves of her breasts, his forehead pressed to her sticky skin when he finally came, spilling inside her with a broken grunt of her name.

He was still jerking against her reflexively when she leaned him back against the blanket and soothingly stroked his shoulders. They lay there a few moments, his eyes closed, pleasure and contentment filling him to the brim, when he felt something soft and cold against his lips. He cracked one eye open to see she was smiling, her hair a mess and her cheeks bright pink; she was offering him a blueberry. He caught it between his teeth, grinning at her, and knew he would never be the same for having met her.

He wondered if that was the best or worst fate he had ever brought upon himself, but could not find it within to regret one second.

…

Every day for a week, Elijah left to meet with her, fearing each time that she would arrive tearfully to tell him that her father had chosen, that she would be married soon. Trevor had sent word that he would arrive in two weeks, the supposed doppelgänger in tow. Elijah felt like time was closing in on him, like he was going to lose Caroline and the only happiness he had known in centuries.

Every morning that she met him, she smiled, and they spent hours on the blanket, eating from her basket, before venturing out to the lake to bathe.

Sitting against a tree on the lakeshore, he watched her as she tied off her hair, still wet and dripping.

"Will you sing for me?" he asked.

She looked over, her lips quirked, and made her way to him, sitting at his side, leaning against his chest. "And only you?"

He nodded.

"Most of the songs I know were taught in the village. A few are lullabies my mother sang to me before bed…" She took his hand and brought it to her lap, playing with his fingers absently. "But there are a few that I wrote myself…"

"Sing me those."

She tipped her head back to smile at him. "Is that a request or a demand, Mister Elijah?"

His lips twitched with amusement. "I'm quite certain a demand would go unheard, Miss Caroline. Please… Indulge me with one of your songs…"

"Because you asked kindly," she teased coyly.

Her voice was as heavenly as he remembered; he closed his eyes and let every note and tone reverberate inside of him.

It became their habit; making love, bathing, singing. When he asked her why she did not dance any longer, she answered simply, "I found what I was looking for."

And he thought to himself about why she had intrigued him so, about her hands reaching toward the sky, to that freedom he wanted for himself, and he realized that she was right. They had found their freedom, their comfort, in each other.

She still preferred to be barefoot, though. He quite appreciated that quirk.

…

"Have you forgotten that my birthday approaches?" Niklaus wondered, raising a brow at his brother.

"Of course not. Trevor has made sure to bring the supposed doppelgänger here for that very occasion," Elijah responded, leaning back in his chair, nodding at a servant as she took his half-eaten plate of dinner away. The succulent meat did little for him, as he could still taste the fresh strawberries Caroline had picked that morning.

"Usually you give more attention to such details…" He frowned, pestering him with doubt. "Have invitations been sent? Do we know who else plans to attend?"

He sighed. "Niklaus, you are one of the most revered lords in England, everyone will be here…" He shook his head, exasperated.

"Revered or _feared?_"

"_Both_." He turned to stare at him seriously. "They fear your temper and respect your brutality in the same breath."

He smirked darkly. "You sound as though you _disapprove_…"

"Does it not disturb you how they relish in your violence to others, but beg for mercy when you turn your wrath on them?"

"They are human." He waved a dismissive hand. "What does it matter?"

"Not every human is disposable, brother." He stood a little taller, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "And not all of them are so quick to fall under the spell of your magnetism."

Niklaus sat forward in his seat. "What brought this mood on? You have been acting strangely for some time now."

"We have spoken of this before. I tire of hunting the doppelgänger."

"Well, good." He shrugged, smiling. "Let us hope that Trevor brings with him my relief. And if he does not… Your weariness may help you search harder for the real doppelgänger."

"As long as you are happy," he muttered under his breath, his jaw ticking.

Niklaus sighed irritably, raising an eyebrow. "Are you pouting now, Elijah? I had not realized you still did that."

Pressing back from the table, Elijah tossed his napkin from where it lay in his lap. "I have had enough for one night." He turned to leave, frustrated that his situation had no easy escape.

"I suggest you find a way to change your feelings on this, brother… You're no fun when you behave like this."

Hearing the underlying threat in Niklaus' voice, he turned to face him, lips pressed in a firm line. "Are you suggesting you might have me join Finn?" he asked, thinking of his brother, locked away in a casket, daggered and out of reach.

"I'm telling you I prefer more _lively_ company…" He stared at him from under the heavy weight of his brow, his eyes dark. "And you are providing little of that."

"My apologies for disappointing, Niklaus. I will be sure to reach your expectations of entertainment in the future," he offered sarcastically. Not bothering to wait for a response, he took his leave, but the subject weighed heavily. Would Niklaus so easily dagger him, after all his years at his side, after all his sacrifices to help him in any way possible?

He could hardly sleep, questioning how far-reaching their loyalty truly was, and whether it was as one-sided as it felt that night.

…

Elijah found himself surprised that Caroline had not yet arrived. He had woken late; his worrying had kept him up to all hours; he had only just drifted off, it seemed, before he was waking once more. The sun was already up but she was nowhere to be found. For a moment, he stilled.

What if today was the day? What if today her father had picked her suitor and she could not, _would not_, come to see him? His chest ached with the thought, his face stricken. He paced for a moment, not sure what to do. He knew what he _wanted _to do, but that did not fall in line with his life or the moral obligations to his family.

And then… He heard it.

Her heart, distinct from all others, faint but close enough for him to hear.

The fear he had felt prior, that she might be lost to him, had him leaving the clearing in search of her. He could not wait for her to catch up; in fact, he thought it might be a sweet surprise for him to sneak up on her. He could already imagine her giggling at him.

But as he grew closer, her heartbeat changed; it picked up pace and skittered, like a fearful animal's just before it was killed. He moved swiftly through the trees, his ears open for every sound, for some idea of what was happening. And then he heard the jeering.

"C'mon, poppet, give us a taste…"

"Yeah, just a little kiss, huh? C'mere then…"

"Get your filthy hands _off _of me!" Caroline ordered.

"Eh, we are just trying to have some fun, no need to get upset."

"Sounds like she thinks she is better than us, boys," a third male voice piped up, deeper, and dark with sneering. "That will not do."

"If you touch me, my father—"

"Now who said we would let you run back to dear old dad then, hm?"

Elijah heard her heart pounding, her breath leaving her in fearful, jagged pants.

"Please. I— I... If you would just let me _pass_…"

"See how quick she turns nice, boys?"

Elijah could make them out then, Caroline trapped in a circle of three men. A blond; tall, stocky, meaty arms crossed over his chest. And two brunets; one thin and wiry, and the other broad-shouldered and a little on the heavy side. They were all dressed in ill-fitting clothes, either a size too big or too small, and dirty and torn, while their hair was long, greasy, and unkempt. They were young, he could see. The two brunets could not be much more than thirteen summers, while the blond likely had only a few years on them. They were just getting hair on their chins, still boys to his thinking.

It was the blond that reached for her, dragging a finger over the neckline of her dress, chuckling as her skin turned scarlet with anger and embarrassment. "Not better than us, are you?"

Glaring up at him, she replied through gritted teeth, "Seeing as I'm not cornering someone in the middle of a forest trying to prove my manhood to a couple of school boys, I would beg to differ."

"Oh, you _will_ beg," he promised, his eyes narrowed into slits. His hand slipped up and circled her throat, squeezing.

Elijah snapped; his eyes went dark as the blood lust, the drive for violence, consumed him. He rushed them, circling the group, quick enough that a breeze kicked up leaves and an eerie whistle echoed on the wind. Their attention caught, the boys searched, eyes wide with confusion, for the cause of the sudden disturbance.

"I heard there was weird things that lived in these here woods," the heavy-set boy said, swallowing thickly.

Elijah came to a stop right behind him. Before anyone could ask questions, he reached forward and plunged his hand through the boy's back. His fingers gripped his rapidly pulsing heart; he tore it out in one quick stroke and squeezed, letting the blood gush over his arm until it was nothing but an empty husk. Finally, he dropped it to the ground next to where the lifeless body had fallen with a thump.

A terrified scream went up, echoing so loudly through the trees that birds scattered, cawing and fleeing toward the sky, far away from danger. It was not Caroline, but the skinnier boy. Elijah turned to him, his nose twitching as he smelled the rank odour of piss as it soiled the boy's pants. Without pretense, Elijah simply snapped the boy's neck, pushing him away carelessly before promptly turning his attention to the last, and worst, of the three.

The blond now stood holding Caroline in front of him as a shield, a worn blade gripped in his white-knuckled hand.

Elijah simply watched him, raising his bloodied hand and licking the warm, red liquid from his fingertip. "I believe we were trading promises… Something about _begging_…" He walked toward them slowly.

"Stay back or I will slit her throat!" the boy yelled, his eyes bouncing from Elijah, who cut an imposing enemy, his eyes black, teeth elongated, blood dripping down one arm and his lips wet with it.

He wagged a discouraging figure as he stared down at the boy dangerously. "I do not appreciate being threatened… In fact, I react quite _violently_ to it."

The boy's heart skipped a beat with the promise of his impending harm and his eyes darted away, fearfully searching for a way to escape. However, as soon as he returned his gaze to Elijah, he was defeated.

Tipping his head, a bead of blood trailing from the corner of his mouth, Elijah compelled him, "_Let go of the girl. Do not harm her._"

Immediately, the knife left her throat and he took a step back.

Crying, confused, Caroline hurried away from her attacker, looking between them and then down to the bodies on the forest bed, one of whom's back was torn open obscenely, a far cry from anything she had likely seen in her life.

Elijah sped in front of the last man, staring him in the eye.

"What—What _are _you?" he asked, his voice hoarse with terror.

"I am _death_," he answered quietly. "And I have come to collect."

With that, he pressed his fingers between the man's lips, curled around the edges of his teeth, and separated his jaw from the rest of his head, tearing it straight off and letting it fall to the ground. The man screamed, blood spraying across Elijah's face and chest. His agony and shock was short-lived, however, as Elijah thrust a hand into his chest and crushed his heart where it lay, feeling it as it gave under his fingers and finally stopped beating altogether, misshapen and useless. The body fell back to the ground while he stood, staring at it, a sick sense of satisfaction consuming him.

He could smell the coppery scent of blood on the air, rising around him, mixing with the earth, heady, _delicious_. He wanted to lick his fingers clean and—

"Elijah?" she whispered.

Immediately, he went still, her voice cutting through the bloodlust. He turned to face her, his blood-black eyes searching her strained, terrified face.

"Caroline…" He took a step toward her, but she skittered back. He cringed in pain; the horror reflected in her eyes was everything he never wanted to see.

"Are…" She swallowed tightly and looked him over. "Are you okay?"

He blinked, once, twice. "I… Yes, I'm fine," he answered, not certain he had heard her right, considering he had been the one to kill them all. They had hardly had a chance to attack him in return.

She cast her eyes away and looked at the others before her face pinched and she hesitantly stepped toward him. He waited, uncertain, confused. She surprised him when she took his hand, wet with blood, and tangled their fingers.

"You need to wash it off," she told him, her voice scarcely a whisper. "And then we need to bury them, before anybody finds them and becomes suspicious."

He turned his head to look at her, his brow furrowed. "Caroline…" There was so much he wanted to say, to explain, to apologize for. So much that he feared putting into words and further destroying her.

She shook her head and he let himself fall silent. Perhaps it was cowardly, but if she did not want him to explain then he would not.

She led him down to the lake where he stood completely still, simply watching her as she undid the buttons and ties of his clothes and stripped them off before removing her dress. She took his hand once more and drew him into the water behind her. Her heart was not hammering like it had been, but it was still a little quicker than usual. He was careful not to make any sudden movements; he did not want her to be afraid of him.

She washed the blood from him. She dipped his hands in the water and scrubbed the blood away from every crevice; she washed his whole body as if she thought to cleanse him of his sins. It would take far more than one bath, he thought, though he did not tell her that. He simply watched as her fingers became wrinkly and he was returned to the composed man of before. His eyes were no longer black, the veins long hidden, and his teeth had retracted, leaving him the picture of the man she thought she knew.

Caroline drew him into the water, pressing on his shoulders so he would wet his hair. He dipped beneath the water briefly, staying silent all the while, waiting uncertainly for what she might say or do, watching her every move, fearful of her rejection.

"My mother has told me stories since I was very young," she began. "She said there were monsters that preyed on the living; that they themselves had traded their souls to the devil to live for eternity. That they drank blood and had unnatural strength and speed…"

He stared at her, blinking as water dripped into his eyes, while her gaze wandered his face thoughtfully. Gently, she began combing her fingers through his hair.

"She said they would be very handsome and charismatic; that they would use such tools to lure their victims… She also said that they could not venture into the sun." She paused then, staring into his eyes. "She called them vampires."

He drew in a deep breath. "Your mother was not entirely wrong."

Her fingers stilled momentarily but then continued to stroke his temple.

"Most cannot walk in the light of day… They would erupt into flames and die a very painful death." He watched her face for any sign of fear or disgust. "My mother, Esther, enchanted a ring for me and each of my siblings so that we could walk this earth, unhindered by the sun."

Her heart stuttered.

"And are they monsters who prey on the living?"

"Some are worse than others; like humans, I imagine… We were all born human, raised with whatever morals our parents chose to instill in us, and those things are heightened in some and lessened in others when they turn."

"And what were you like, as a human?" she wondered curiously.

"Much as I am now, only…" He sighed, turning his eyes away. "I have done things that I regret, taken lives that I wish I had not, manipulated and killed for myself and my brother, for goals that do not seem so important now."

"You drink blood?" she wondered, brow knit.

"I do."

"Do you kill them?"

"I prefer not to," he said honestly, "but there have been casualties, yes."

Her lips pursed, and he knew the question she wanted to ask but feared the answer to.

"Did you…" Her voice gave out and she cleared her throat, trying again. "Was I… a victim? Did you intend to kill me?"

He reached for her, his arms banding around her waist. "Never." He shook his head. "I will admit that when I first saw you, I wanted to taste you… But I never wanted to kill you. I would_ never_ kill you." He shook his head furiously. "If you trust nothing else, trust that."

She raised her chin, her eyes bright with tears. "I want to. I want to believe that you would not…" She shook her head, her tears spilling down her cheeks.

He cupped her face, his thumbs rubbing beneath her eyes. "Caroline," he said, roughly, pressing against her, tipping her head back. "I have never bitten you, never _hurt _you."

"Those men…"

His fingers tightened in her hair. "I would kill them again," he admitted fiercely. "They scared you, _touched _you…"

"They were going to violate me… They would have—"

"Shh…" He pressed his forehead to hers. "They did not. They will not."

She gripped his forearms, her fingers dug in tightly, her body shaking against his and not from the cold water. "They would have killed me after… And I never would have reached you. You would not know. My parents would think I had run away, afraid to marry… Nobody would have known." Her breathing picked up with panic. "How did you know? Elijah, how did you know to come find me?"

"I could hear your heartbeat… I—I was just excited to see you at first. I went to find you, but then I could tell something was wrong, that you were scared…"

"You can hear those things?" she asked curiously.

"I will tell you everything you want to know about what I am," he promised her, tipping his head back to see her. "Ask anything and I will be honest."

She stared at him a long moment before nodding. "Not here. We…" Her eyes darted away. "We have to hide those men and then we will discuss it in the clearing." She pulled back from him, treading water as she left.

He followed after her, watching her worriedly. "I will take care of them…" He gathered up their clothes and shook his head. "I want you to go to the clearing and wait for me. You do not need to see them any more… You do not need to be a part of this."

"I _am_ part of it. A vital part," she argued, raising her chin. "Those men attacked me; they are dead _because _of me—"

"They are dead because they were amoral degenerates," he interrupted. "They thought to take something from you, to force themselves upon you and leave you to die. They were not worthy of living and I do not regret their deaths." He shook his head, his jaw ticking. "Only that you saw me lose control and now fear who I really am."

Her head was bowed as she listened to him; she neither agreed nor disagreed.

He started toward the forest, but paused, sighed, before he asked, "Please, Caroline… Go to the clearing. I will be along shortly."

She hesitated, but eventually he heard her footsteps moving in the right direction.

He found the bodies easily enough; the smell of death and blood still touched the air. He considered leaving them for the animals to pick apart but they were close enough to the village that someone might find them and call attention to the unusual cause of their deaths. So he buried them, deep below the earth, using his hands to pull the dirt free before stuffing the bodies in, one on top of the other, and burying them once more. Even with his supernatural speed, it took him some time. He stopped at the lake to wash his hands and right himself before he joined Caroline; he did not want her to see him and think about what he had done.

When he found her, there was a stark difference from that first time he had seen her. She was not twirling now, was not smiling or glowing or reaching for the sky. Instead she stood with her arms wrapped tight around her, teeth worrying her lip, her brow furrowed.

"Caroline…"

She whirled toward him and swallowed tightly. She stalked toward him, her chin raised stubbornly. "Tell me everything," she demanded.

He smiled to himself; her fire was not gone.

"It is a long story, and not always a good one," he warned.

Her eyes fell momentarily before she nodded. "I will judge that for myself," she decided.

And so he let her do just that. He told her everything, his earliest memories, his family, Tatia, Henrik and the curse borne of his death, vampires, werewolves, the doppelgänger, moonstones and fake curses. He told her of his first kill, of how he felt as though he were only a fraction of who he had been, how he had sacrificed parts of himself, his morals, when it best fit the plan, when it fit Niklaus and his desire to be a hybrid. He told her how blood tasted, how it roused an insatiable hunger inside him, that he had learned to control it most of the time, but on rare occasions, he slipped.

When all of his dark history was laid at her feet, he began to tell her about when he first saw her. "You were stunning…" He turned his head to look at her, but she kept her chin down, staring at her lap, twisting a daisy in her fingers. "I could see a light inside of you… I could see everything I had lost; my innocence, my ability to see the good in the world… And I wanted it. I wanted to taste that beauty again."

Her eyes turned toward him but did not rise to meet his gaze.

"You were laughing, _dancing_, and I envied you… I wanted so much to feel what you were feeling… So I— I returned the next morning, thinking to witness you again, but you were not there. I waited. I… spent the whole day waiting for you. When you did not come, I tried to imitate what I had seen; I tried to see if I could find that feeling on my own."

"But I found you."

He watched her until her bright blue eyes finally found his. "Yes." He smiled softly. "You found me and I never wanted to be lost again."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Elijah…"

"I know that I am a monster…" He reached for her, taking her hands in his, squeezing them. "I know that I have done terrible deeds that you would never think to forgive, but…" He stared at her searchingly. "I'm asking you… I'm asking that you forgive me those mistakes and know that I want to be worthy of you."

"It is your nature." Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. "You cannot promise you will not kill… That you will not drink the blood of innocent people…"

Covering her hands, he rubbed the tops with his thumbs. "You are right… I cannot. But I can assure you that death will only soil my hands when necessary. That I will not take a life unless it threatens me or mine… Would your father not do the same if he could? To _protect _those he loves?"

She searched his eyes, her brow knotted tightly. "And what of me?" She blinked back her tears. "When this ends, when I return to my father and he marries me off… You would _trust_ me to know these things?"

"I would trust you with my everything…" He nodded. "Whatever you choose, I will not condemn you for it."

"_Choose?_" she repeated, perplexed.

"You can leave here, ask me never to return, and I will not… I will honor your wishes. You can return home, tell your parents of what I am, and I will await the mob at my door… Or you can _stay_." He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. "We can spend what little time left we have here, on _our _land, in love and safe and _free!_"

She sat, her head bowed, trying to take it all in, before finally she tugged her hands from beneath his.

He felt his heart drop into his stomach, an ache throbbing painfully. "Caroline…"

She pushed to her feet, staring down at him sorrowfully. "I need time," she whispered. "Please. I—I need to think. I cannot _think _when I'm here, with you, when… When I look at you, you are _everything! _There are moments when I fear the lengths I would go to in order to be with you, to _love _you…"

Reaching for him, she pressed a hand to his cheek. He covered it with his own and closed his eyes. He listened to her heartbeat, quicker now, not with fear but pain. He could hear the hitch in her breath as she struggled not to cry. And finally, she pulled away from him, her hand sliding free of his.

He refused to open his eyes and watch her go.

Because he feared she would never return.

[**Next**: Part IV.]

**Author's Note**: _Hey everybody! I'm really relieved and grateful to be receiving so many lovely and encouraging reviews. I'm glad you've all be enjoying it so much as there's plenty more to come! Please drop some feedback before you go! Things will be taking a turn soon as Niklaus and Caroline will be meeting very, very soon! ;) _

_Shout out to Shannon (itsvolcanoday), my fantastic beta, and Mel (my amazing friend and maker of beautiful art), thank you both for being such huge supports!_

_Thank you everybody for reading!_

**-Lee | Fina**


	4. Part IV

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 7,764  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**IV.**

Preparations for Niklaus' party were well underway. Servants pestered Elijah repeatedly, asking for his direction, for his approval. However, Elijah could not focus; he could not give his brother's birthday due attention when all he was wondering about was whether Caroline could forgive him for being what he was. She had listened patiently as he had shared his history, which was a feat in itself since Caroline was far more prone to interrupting, asking questions, and giving her opinion, rather than quietly listening. He had spared no detail and was careful not to paint himself as a heroic figure; he wanted her to know all of it, to know him completely. If she truly loved him as he did her, would she be able to accept him? And more, did it matter if she did accept him? She was to be married as soon as her father decided on a suitable husband. He found, despite that, he still wanted to know what her decision would be, if she could love the monster as she did the man.

He returned the following morning and the next, but Caroline did not. He told himself that she simply needed more time and that her absence was not her true answer, but he feared her actions spoke louder than any words. Still, he waited, seated in the grass, next to the lopsided flag she had made for them. He wondered briefly, as he sat in the shadows of the tree branches, if he had known what would come of it, would he have still gone to the clearing in the first place? Was the heartbreak worth it? Truthfully, he knew the answer.

He could still see her dancing in his mind; carefree, unrestrained, beautiful. He would not give it up for anything.

He returned home to the chaos of the estate, wherein servants were rushing to and fro, trying to appease their Lord Niklaus, who was quite apparently in a foul mood. Elijah tried to walk past the dining room, but he was not so fortunate.

"And where has my dearest brother been all day, I might ask," Niklaus bellowed, standing from his seat at the end of the table, lit with elaborate candle displays.

"Were you in need of me?" Elijah asked, appearing completely calm. He cast his eyes around at the humans gathered, their heads bowed, backs against the walls. "It would seem you have a large, eager staff who could have been of service."

"Yes, well, quite clearly, they are all _idiots_," he snapped through clenched teeth. "I was under the impression that _you_ were planning this party, Elijah, but it seems that you are still distracted by an unknown event that you seem unwilling to share with me." He leaned forward, resting his fists on the table beneath him. "I tire of questioning you about it and learning so little."

"And I tire of being questioned as though my whereabouts are any of your concern." He walked casually toward the table. "I pray Trevor brings good news so this journey you are so keen to take can reach its end." He picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and rubbed it to a shine on his tunic before taking a bite, his eyebrow raised at his seething brother.

"And with its end, what _exactly_ do you hope to find?" Niklaus glared. "Will you so effortlessly leave my side after all these years?"

Elijah stared back at him, his expression dark, before finally he let his gaze drop and turned to leave.

Niklaus slammed his hands down on the table, causing the skittish staff to jump before scattering out of sight. "I will not have you walk away from me!" he yelled, his voice echoing to the rafters. "You would _leave _me, is that what you are telling me?"

In that very moment, Elijah knew.

He would. He would leave Niklaus and take Caroline with him. Whether Trevor brought with him the doppelgänger or not, Elijah would not be around for any fallout. He and Caroline were going to leave, to the other side of the world if they must, but they would not be within Niklaus' reach. He could not, however, tell his brother that, and so he shook his head.

"After all my years of loyalty, you still question me." He raised his chin and stared at him squarely. "Remember this, Niklaus, in your darkest hours; I was always by your side."

Slowly, letting that sink in, Niklaus gave a short nod, accepting it as a sign of Elijah's unending fealty, before he took his seat and barked an order to a nearby servant. He wanted wine, and plenty of it. Elijah turned on his heel and left, a pang of remorse and guilt stabbing at his chest. Perhaps Niklaus would never forgive him, but Elijah knew for certain he would never forgive himself if he did not take this chance.

Now, all he had to do was convince Caroline he was worth loving.

…

The day he found her lying in their clearing, he thought he was dreaming.

The sun had barely risen, casting the forest in a pale glow, and yet she lay still on the ground. Her hands were stacked atop her stomach, her blonde hair spread out around her head, bright against the dark blanket of grass.

He walked hesitantly toward her, fearing that if he got too close, she might disappear altogether, fade into the ether. He stopped a few steps short of her and simply stared, his hands twitching at his sides, his mouth desperate to open, to grab her and share with her his new plan, the future they could have. Instead, he stood silently, listening to the wind whistle through the trees.

"That morning, when I found you dancing, I thought I had found my equal…" Her voice carried in the silence, seeming so loud. "I thought perhaps God had seen fit to send my other half to me, to the one place I let myself be free." Her lips curled up in a tiny smile. "And for a time, that seemed true. Meeting here with you, dancing, laughing, sharing our lives… I— I waited, like the silly girl my father always thought me to be, hoping you would see that I was _your _other half… Hoping you would realize what I already knew to be true."

His feet shifted, wanting to go to her, kneel at her side, tell her he knew it too, but he folded his lips to let her have her say and clasped his hands at his back.

"But time after time you made it clear that I would never be your wife. And _still_ I loved you, _still_ I prayed…" Her smile faded and she swallowed tightly, closing her eyes. "And finally… _Finally,_ you admitted you loved me too."

He could hear her heart thump loudly.

"When we joined here in this clearing, I let myself dream that it would go on for a lifetime. That perhaps God would let us live here, forever in that moment, just us, and we would never have to face the outside world again…" She shook her head. "But that is not what happened… All of my praying and hoping and my silly dreams cannot and will not change reality."

His brow furrowed. "Caroline—"

She did not let him continue. "When I was twelve years old, I saw my father cleave a man's head from his shoulders… all for trying to steal one of our goats." She twisted her lips up as they trembled. "He told me that a man who stole had no right to life if he would not fight for it fairly… And I h-_hated _him in that moment because all I could think of was whether that man had a family to feed, whether his _children_ would starve to death, whether his wife would cry herself to sleep each night knowing that he did not return because he no longer lived…"

He refused to look at her then, turning his head away, thinking of the blood that soiled his hands, the many deaths that were tallied under his name.

She would not forgive him. And he did not deserve for her to.

"I tried to remind myself of this in the days we were apart… I tried to imagine you tearing the head from a man's shoulders because he dared to steal from you…" She opened her eyes but kept them on the sky. "I'm not so blind with love for you that I have convinced myself you would never hurt someone, that you would not behead them for wronging you…"

Elijah swallowed thickly, his shoulders slumping with defeat.

Caroline shook her head. "But the difference between you and my father is this…" She turned to look at him, her eyes ringed in red with brimming tears. "If you caught a man stealing a sheep, you would ask him what he needed it for. You would discern whether he was telling you the truth or if he was attempting to lie to you…"

She searched his face and he raised his eyes to meet hers steadily, letting her gauge the merit of his soul.

"If he was honestly starving, if he had no other way and there was a family waiting by a hearth for any scrap of food he could gather, I think you would let him take that goat, with a warning that it was the one and _only_ time you would allow him to steal from you… And I say this _not_ because I am silly, but because I _know _you… I know that even if your heart does not beat, it is still far more compassionate than my father's is…" She sat up then, her hair drifting down her back, speckled with grass. "Tell me differently if you must, but do not lie to either me or yourself."

He stared at her a long moment, at the hollows of her cheeks, embellished by the faintly lit sky. "I believe in weighing my options… In honor, integrity, and honesty… If a man stepped on my land and stole from my stock, I would question him…" He tipped his head, his eyes narrowed. "I am not always compassionate, Caroline. There have been people who have begged for my mercy, and I have ignored their cries."

"Because their deaths helped you or Niklaus?"

He bowed his head in agreement. "Or they threatened my family, yes."

"And the thirst…?" Her lips pinched. "There have been victims due to your… affliction?"

He nodded. "The number is not small by any means."

All was silent for a long moment, only the faint chirping of birds waking in the distance, of animal feet skittering across the forest bed.

"Is it wrong…" she asked in a whisper, "that a part of me does not care who else dies, because I know, in my heart of hearts, that you would never hurt _me?_" She raised her eyes to meet his. "Is it selfish, Elijah? That I would ignore those deaths in favor of loving you?"

"_Can _you love me?" he queried, moving to kneel in front of her swiftly. "Knowing what you know, what I am, can you _truly_ love me?" He searched her face, hesitant to hope.

She smiled faintly, staring him in the eye as she shook her head. "I have loved you the entire time… Even as the blood of a man's heart stained your arm… Was I afraid? Yes, of _course!_ And I was—I was angry and confused and I did not quite understand, but… The world is full of war, of _death_, and when I am with you, our world is the opposite of that." She reached for him, her hand smoothing over his face, rubbing her thumb along the curve of his cheek before drifting down to trace the seam of his lips.

"I will always be a monster, Caroline…" He covered her wrist, his thumb swiping over her pulse, and thought it fitting that he focused on the skittering of her heartbeat, rapid with emotion, given what they spoke of. "A _killer_."

"And you will always be _mine_," she whispered fiercely, raising her eyes to meet his. "Will you not?"

He smoothed his hand up to cover hers. "Forever."

She leaned forward then, her fingers burying in his hair, and her lips slanted across his, heavy, bruising, and he gathered her in tight, his arms squeezing around her, desperate, hopeful.

She sat in his lap, their bodies twined so tight together he could feel her chest expand, pressing into his own, as she breathed. Her forehead touched his as her kisses slowed to sweet, sipping passes, before finally they were still, nose to nose, eye to eye, and he could count her lashes in the slow draw of time that passed.

"I feared you would never return."

She dragged her nails down the slope of his neck. "I am not sure I will ever leave."

He brushed her hair back from her face and swallowed. "Soon, my brother will be distracted… The doppelgänger may be on her way here… Regardless, if you will come with me, we can leave here…" If his heart could still beat, it would be pounding. "Niklaus will have his hands full, leaving us free to escape."

He could hear as her heart skittered, picking up speed.

"Where would we go?" she wondered, but he could hear the excitement tingeing her voice.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He smiled at her, stroked her cheek with his knuckles. "You wanted to see the world, so I will show it to you."

Her eyes widened joyfully, but faded quickly. "Elijah…" She shook her head. "He is your _brother_. I cannot—"

"I have spent my entire life serving Niklaus… And if he calls on me for anything in the future, I will be the first to answer." He shook his head. "But I cannot dedicate every day to him and his search. If the doppelgänger comes, then I will help him end his curse before you and I take our leave. If she does not, then we will sneak away while he deals out the repercussions…" He cupped her face. "Will you come with me, Caroline?"

Her eyes fell and she took a deep, shaky breath.

He worried for a moment that she might still turn him away; that she thought only to love him until her father picked out her suitor and then take her leave, relieving herself of the burden he would be to her.

"It does not have to end?" she whispered, raising her teary eyes to him.

He shook his head emotionally. "We can leave this clearing and still be together," he promised.

A tear spilled down her cheek as she laughed. "Yes."

His brows rose in surprise.

"_Yes!_" she repeated cheerfully.

He hugged her, his arms squeezing her tight to him, one hand coiled itself in her hair desperately, his face buried at her neck as he let out a thick sigh.

Relief flooded him, heavier than the guilt could.

In just under a week, Trevor would arrive with what he said was the doppelgänger; regardless of whether she was or not, Elijah and Caroline would be setting off for their future, together.

…

That morning, they celebrated. It was a frenzied, desperate coupling with most of their clothes still on. Elijah's pants ringed his thighs, his tunic simply shoved up to his waist, while Caroline's underclothes and dress were pushed up to her hips, as she sat in his lap, her hands loosely gripping his sides. Her head was tipped back as she panted, her skin flushed pink. He could still feel her shaking around the length of his cock. Elijah kissed down the length of her neck, sucking at her pulse, his tongue stroking over it.

"Does it hurt?" she wondered.

He hummed, distracted.

She raised her hand to run her fingers through his hair. "When you bite, does it hurt?"

He paused. Drawing his head back, his brows furrowed, he stared at her uncertainly. "It can, when done improperly…" He ran his finger down her neck. "When a vampire is vicious, blood-thirsty, he can tear the flesh and the blood comes easier… The human dies, more often than not."

She was quiet for a moment, letting that resonate, before finally she asked, "And if you are careful?"

"Then it can be easy, even pleasurable…" He ducked his head to press a kiss against her throat. "And if one sees fit, he can compel them to forget it ever happened."

She nodded, her fingers still running through his hair.

He turned his head, letting it rest on her shoulder, while his fingers played over the top of her dress, dancing between fabric and soft skin.

"Would you bite me if I asked?" she finally queried, her voice hesitant.

Despite a part of him that wanted to argue against it, another part was desperate to sink his teeth into her. "There is no rush, Caroline… If you are doing this because you think I want it—"

"Do you not?" she interrupted, tipping her chin down so she could see him. "Tell me the truth, Elijah… You want to bite me."

"Of course I do." He felt his eyes flicker. "It is in my nature."

"That is not all it is though, is it?" She rubbed her fingers over his cheek. "You said… You said it could be _pleasurable_."

He nodded slowly. "Some use it to coax their victims into false comfort."

"But if it were us… If you bit me and I—I _encouraged _you to…" She searched his eyes curiously. "Could it be pleasurable for us?"

Elijah pushed up to a seated position, drawing her into his lap easily, the fabric of her dress falling over their legs to cover her modestly. "If you are so sure, why not wait?" he suggested, his brows raised. "Until we have left here, until you understand more about it."

She smiled slowly. "There you are, doing it again, questioning me and my _vast _understanding of the world at large," she teased.

He shook his head, sighing patiently. "Caroline…" He rubbed his hands up her back soothingly. "This is not to be taken lightly… The trust you would have to impart in me to bite you… The trust I would need to have in myself that I would not be overcome…"

"I _do _trust you…" She cupped his waist, shifting in his lap, her eyes wide.

He grunted; he was still inside her, could feel every move she made, and all of this talk about blood, _her _blood, was making him hard again.

Her eyes dropped to her lap. "I can feel you," she reminded him. "And I _want_ this." She reached for his hand and brought it up to her chest, sliding his fingers along the length of her neck. "I want to know all of you… I want to _feel _all of you."

He swallowed thickly, his gaze stuck on her throat; he could hear her heartbeat rising steadily. "I will be careful," he murmured, brushing her hair back and out of the way.

"I know you will."

"You can tell me to stop… If it hurts, if you are not sure…" he promised, licking his lips.

She nodded, watching his face.

Veins rippled under his eyes as they darkened, his teeth lengthening, straining in his mouth. "Are you certain?" he asked once more.

She tipped her head to one side in reply.

He kissed her neck; long, sucking kisses along the skin he was so very familiar with now. He let his teeth graze over it and heard her heartbeat stutter. He waited for her to stop him but she did not, and so he let his teeth pierce her skin. Slowly, delicately, until he felt the warm dribble of blood drain into his mouth, wetting his lips. He buried a hand in her hair, gripping it around his fingers, and drank leisurely, licking and kissing her skin as he went. He followed a drop down her chest before it could meet her dress. His tongue traced the trail back up to the holes in her neck.

His hands met her shoulders, tugging her dress down her arms, massaging and kneading her flesh as he went. He pushed the fabric to her waist and ducked his head to her breasts. She arched her back for him, and he circled a pale pink nipple with his tongue, his teeth grazing. He ran a hand up her spine to cup the nape of her neck, fingers lightly stroking her hair, while he rubbed the other hand up her front, from the top of her navel, through the valley of her breasts, to her throat, still dripping blood down her flawless white skin. He smeared the blood across her chest, caught it on the tips of his fingers and painted circles all over, only to follow each of them with his tongue.

He was fully erect as he sucked biting kisses all over her breasts, puncturing the skin just enough to draw a bead of blood here or there. She rocked against his hips, her fingers gripping his neck, blunt nails scraping. A hand fell to her waist to guide her movements as she pressed her knees down into the earth and lifted herself off his cock, only to sink back down, taking him inside her. She was murmuring again, nonsense and his name, all of it encouraging, as she watched him, his lips red with her blood, his tongue coated with it.

She was stunning. She always had been, but now she was resplendent. The glow had not faded, it had simply condensed. She was his; his love, his soul mate, his _everything_. He understood now, why men went to war for love, why they laid down their lives for it, why bards wrote so animatedly of it. Caroline did not shy away from the darkness of his soul, she embraced it wholly. She opened her arms and let him have of her what he needed, what she could give, and he knew true trust for the first time in his life. She, unlike Rebekah's love, clutched no dagger in her fingers. There were no conditions to Caroline's love; she understood that he was a killer, that lives would be lost because of him, and she loved him regardless.

Elijah's hands braced on her shoulder blades as he met the desperate rocking of her hips, sinking inside her as deeply as he could reach. He dropped one hand to her thigh, squeezing and kneading before he slid his fingers between them to stroke her clit, pinching in the same moment his teeth sunk into the other side of her neck. She cried out, squeezing his cock, her hands burying in his hair, and he felt her whole body shudder against him.

She panted, her heartbeat erratic, and he knew she was on the cusp. He licked up her neck and nipped lightly at her chin. She lowered her head to meet him, slanting her lips over his without hesitation. She climaxed with a scream that was caught inside his mouth. He laid her back against the grass, his hips picking up speed until he had joined her, until he was consumed by pleasure, sight and sound escaping him for a minute.

She was still spasming around him when he slid out of her slowly, smoothing his hands down her thighs and resting his head on her stomach, where her dress and underclothes were clustered. She rubbed her fingers through his hair and lay limply beneath him, one arm over her face as she tried to catch her breath.

"You were right," she said, her voice shaky.

He raised his head, an eyebrow raised curiously.

She grinned. "It was _quite _pleasurable."

He laughed. Climbing up her body, he kissed her, once, twice, before finally laying at her side, and gathering her up beside him.

"I made the right choice," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. "I will always choose you, and I will always be right."

He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and hoped that would be true.

They spent much of the morning stripped bare and exploring one another before he took her down to the lake to wash up. He fed her some of his blood to heal the bite on her neck and sent her home, already counting the days until they would never have to part again.

…

The following morning, Elijah brought with him a surprise.

"Is that a sword?" she asked, reaching out to touch it.

"Mind the blade," he warned, drawing it away from her fingers. "I had the smith sharpen it."

Her brow furrowed. "But you already have a sword, and a handsome one too."

"I do. Which is why this one will be yours," he said, turning it over to slide it back into its sheath.

"Me?" She laughed incredulously, her eyes wide. "A _sword? _What would _I _do with a sword?"

"Defend yourself," he explained, giving her a short nod. "The other morning, with those… men." His mouth twisted up as their words, their intentions, echoed in his mind. "I will not always be by your side, Caroline. You are too independent to keep me as your shadow. This way… I will be comforted to know that you are safe and can take care of yourself… And _you _will feel safe knowing that you can fight anything that means you ill will."

"I…" She nodded slowly. "I think that is a wonderful sentiment, Elijah, but I have no idea how to wield any weapon, let alone a sword."

He smiled. "Which is why I will teach you."

She giggled, her face lighting up. "Like dancing, good sir?" she said, her voice warm.

He reached for her hand and twirled her as he brought her near. "More structured than our dancing lessons, but just as important, I assure you," he said against her ear.

She leaned into his chest. "I trust your judgement… If you think I can wield a sword, then I will be the fiercest lady warrior in all the land!" she declared.

He chuckled under his breath and squeezed her hip affectionately. "Of that, I have no doubt."

"Can I hold it then? Test it out?"

"Soon. We will practice with something less deadly first…" He walked away from her to the sack he had brought along with him, and from it he drew out two wooden swords, the kind young boys would often use in play. "I will teach you technique first, and then you will become familiar with the weight of a real sword." He flipped the wood sword in the air, caught it by its tip, and held it out to her until she wrapped her hand around the hilt hesitantly. "Do not be afraid… Neither of us will be hurt in this endeavor."

"So says you now…" She smirked teasingly and put a hand to her hip. "But I plan to become a master swordswoman under your teachings…" She poked his chest with her wooden sword. "And then I fear I will not go easy on you."

He grinned warmly and circled her, his head cocked. "I look forward to the battle."

They spent the morning just like that, bantering lightheartedly as Elijah taught her footwork and how to carry herself. He righted her hands, her wrists, her hips, until she was standing properly, holding the sword in a way that would lessen the weight and heighten the ferocity of each blow. Even in her dress and new to swordsmanship, Caroline was a swift learner. She hesitated in the beginning, fearing she might somehow hurt him, but as her confidence grew, she sloughed off her fear and began to use the skills he taught her. With only one morning's teachings, she likely would not win any battles in the near future, but he felt certain that she would become a strong fighter with time and effort.

They walked down to the lake to bathe, as she complained she stunk of sweat, before sitting on the shore together. He plaited her hair as she sang for him and he wondered if this would be his future. Just like this. He could still remember her smile as she tapped his side with her sword and declared herself the winner of their battle.

He would never tire of that smile.

A daisy sprouted from the grass within reach and he plucked it from the ground, tying it in the braid that hung down her back. She took his hands and brought them forward, his arms wrapping around her, as she lay back against his chest.

"Thank you," she murmured.

He ducked his head, chin resting on her shoulder. "For what?"

"The girl who wields the sword is not silly." She looked up at him. "You make me brave."

"You were always brave," he argued, kissing her cheek. "And stubborn." He kissed her chin. "And loud." Her neck. "And smart." Her shoulder. "And completely lacking in propriety."

She giggled, reaching up to press her fingers to his cheek. "Am I so few things?" She watched his face. "I have so much more for you to kiss that I wish the list were longer."

He buried his face at her neck, kissing and sucking her skin as she gave a laughing cry, wrapping an arm around his head.

Elijah basked in the happiness he had found with her. He had never known anything quite like it, and he was sure he never would again.

…

With only four days until Niklaus' birthday and Trevor's arrival, Elijah was distracted with planning, but it had little to do with the actual festivities. Over the years, he had collected a number of properties around the world and these seemed a good place to run to when he and Caroline took their leave. However, Elijah knew as soon as his brother realized that he had gone, he would search for him. At the very least, Niklaus would send scouts to everywhere he thought Elijah might go and then find his way there to demand his return. Or, more likely, dagger him for his disobedience. Thus, he needed somewhere that Niklaus did not know of, somewhere safe and hidden from him. He also needed somewhere that Caroline would enjoy, that she would feel happy to explore and not like a prisoner, hiding from the wrath of a man she had never even met.

He spent much of his night going over papers, all of which granted him ownership of various lands. He had to piece together his vast memory to see if Niklaus knew of them, if he had visited them, and with each memory that betrayed his brother's knowledge, he made a pile of useless papers, of places to which he would never be able to return.

Frustration built. Time was of the essence and it seemed only to mock him. A part of him hoped that Trevor brought the doppelgänger, that Niklaus would be so overcome with finally achieving his goal that he would let Elijah leave with no ill will between them. However, a far more logical part of him knew that it was quite unlikely. Niklaus could be petty, jealous, and far too controlling for his own good.

They would have to leave and never let him know where or why.

He prayed only that Caroline's identity, that his true reason for leaving, stayed quiet, as he was certain that his brother's disdain for humans and love would only destroy what Elijah had finally found.

And that, miraculously, was when he found exactly where he and Caroline would go.

He stared down at the old, frayed piece of paper and a smile turned up his lips.

Home.

This would be their home.

…

Elijah felt more hopeful than ever when he met Caroline the following morning. He had decided not to tell her _where _they were going, only that he had a place in mind that he was sure she would enjoy.

"Do you think I should leave a letter for my parents?" she wondered, chewing her lip as she walked aimlessly around the clearing. "Perhaps only that I fell in love and have run away… They need not know all the details, but at least it would put my mother's mind at ease."

"It would be considerate not to tell them with whom you are truly running away with."

"Which part do you think would shock them more? That you are a Lord or a vampire?" Her eyes lit up with teasing.

"I would rather think being a Lord was in my favor…" he mused.

She shrugged, sighing. "Perhaps if it were not for Niklaus you could have asked for my hand, and Father would have forgotten his search for the right suitor."

He raised an eyebrow, taking her hand in his and pulling her closer. "And what news do you bring of that? Has he made any such decision?"

She shook her head, reaching an arm around his waist and squeezing as she laid her head against his chest. "Not yet, but he has been busy of late… He spends much of his night going over papers and he mutters to himself. He always does when he is deep in debate with himself."

"It is only three more days," he assured.

"Unless she is the doppelgänger," Caroline reminded, turning her head up, chin perched on his chest. "How long until the full moon? That is when the ceremony must take place, is it not?"

He nodded, stroking his fingers through her hair. "Two weeks."

She sighed, her eyes falling. "Elijah… What if he chooses?"

"I could compel him, your father…" he offered, his brows arched thoughtfully. "I could compel both your parents to give up their search for your suitor."

"Are you certain it would work?"

"Unless your parents have knowledge of vervain, they will do as I tell them…" He turned down his chin to look her in the eyes. "But it is not to be taken lightly, Caroline… I would be taking their control away, do you understand?"

She bit her lip and cast her eyes away, brow furrowed. "What… What if you compelled them to forget me entirely?" She offered a weak smile. "They would not hurt then; they would not ask questions."

"When we leave, you mean?" he asked, keeping his voice carefully level.

She nodded. "I know I said I could leave a note but… I do not want them to worry, to be upset with me…"

"You instead wish they would not remember you at all?" He shook his head. "Caroline, they love you… You are their only child."

"Which is why it will hurt them all the more that I chose to run away from them," she cried, pulling away from his arms and wrapping her own around herself. "I could keep them from feeling it… I… You could compel them to forget and then they could move elsewhere, somewhere people would not ask after me… They could start over, just the two of them, away from here… Father could leave behind work and Stephen and focus on my mother, on being a good husband to her…" She wiped quickly at her cheeks, ridding them of her falling tears.

He walked to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind, feeling her shake against him. "Even if they forget you, you would not forget them…" he whispered, his tone touched with apology.

She squeezed her eyes closed. "I know…" She nodded. "And I will live with that."

"Will you?" He turned her to face him, his hands stroking up her arms, squeezing her shoulders. "Caroline, you must be certain this is what you want… That _I_ am truly what you want…" He shook his head, staring at her searchingly. "When we run from here, there is no returning… If Trevor does not bring with him the doppelgänger, we will be leaving Niklaus in his time of need… He will be vengeful and he will direct that toward us… We may always be running from his wrath."

She stared up at him, her tears calming. Finally, she nodded. "I only want for them not to hurt… I do not regret my decision to be with you." She pressed her hands flat against his chest. "I will spend the whole of my life running with you if that is what it takes."

He read the sincerity on her face before breathing out a sigh of relief and finally bent to kiss her. He cradled her head, his fingers tangled in her hair, as their lips slanted with desperation. When he finally drew back, he pressed his forehead to hers and promised thickly, "Whatever you want… I will erase their memories, compel them to be happy for us, send them away… _anything_, Caroline."

She wrapped her arms around him tightly and whispered, "Thank you."

…

Elijah spent more than just the morning with her; he tempted fate by spending the whole day, from sunrise to sunset, completely entranced with her. He told her of all the places he had been, of all the places he planned to take her, while she listened raptly, her head perched on his chest as he played with her hair.

They made love atop the blanket she always brought with her, and he lost himself in her silken skin and her drugging kisses. She bared her neck and drew her hair out of the way as his mouth found her pulse and his teeth sunk through her flesh to reach the warm ambrosia of her blood, letting it wet his tongue and flow sweetly down his throat. He had never seen a woman enjoy his bite as much as she did, arching up into him, legs squeezing his waist as she climaxed with his teeth puncturing the soft flesh of her breast.

She lay beneath him, a lazy, satisfied smile stretching her lips, watching as he lapped at the still bleeding bite. His fingers danced up and down her side, his head resting against her while his tongue periodically flicked out for a taste.

Her fingers ran through his hair soothingly. "Do you enjoy being a vampire, Elijah?" she wondered.

His eyes rose to meet hers, brow furrowing. "How do you mean?"

"When you first told me of it, you spoke of how control could be such a struggle… How you were a _monster_… Do you not like being one? Living for an eternity?"

He considered the question, giving it due thought. "It is not all bad, certainly," he admitted. "I have seen the world change and grow… I have seen far more than any mortal man could wish…" He smiled then. "And if I were not one, I would not have met you."

"A terrible fate, that," she murmured, grinning.

He chuckled lowly, nodding his head. As his gaze fell back to his bite atop her pale skin, he sobered. "But there are things I do not like…"

"Killing?" she said quietly.

"At times, yes…" His lips pursed. "And when you have forever, there are times that you take for granted the present."

"Is that why you stayed by Niklaus' side so faithfully…? Because you thought you would find your own happiness later."

"Perhaps." He frowned. "I do love him. He is, and will always be, my family."

"Of course." She nodded, running her knuckles down his cheek. "Do you ever wonder though…? I mean, would you change it? If you could be human, would you?"

"As a vampire, I am stronger, faster, and better able to keep myself and those I care for safe…" He stroked a hand over her stomach. "But there are things that humans have that I never will…" His jaw ticked as his fingers stroked circles atop her skin. "There was a time when I wished to have a family of my own… To have children at my feet, to teach them things… To see them become good, honorable, loyal people."

She covered his hand with hers, pressing it flat. "You would have been a wonderful father," she told him sincerely.

He tipped his head back, offering her a half-smile. Reaching up, he tucked her hair back from her face. "I will have to comfort myself with being a wonderful husband."

She squeezed the hand she held in his hair and bent to kiss him, turning him onto his back and climbing atop him.

He laughed against her lips, his hands smoothing up her body.

"Do you know what I think marks a good husband?" she asked, kissing her way down his neck.

"I am eager to learn," he murmured, his fingers skimming over the flair of her hips and dragging up and down her back.

"A good husband keeps his wife constantly pleasured," she teased him, kissing a path over his chest. "He tells her he loves her every day, once in the morning and twice at night."

He raised an eyebrow, hardly quelling his grin. "My wife sounds insatiable."

"She is." She leaned up to bite his chin playfully before kissing his lips once more. "Do you think you can meet her standards of a good husband?"

"I think I am very willing to try," he said, before flipping them over easily, until she was flat beneath him. He hooked his hands beneath her knees and drew them up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He bent his head, pressing a whisper soft kiss to her temple, her cheek, and the corner of her lips. "Have I told you this morning that I love you?"

She smiled, her eyes following him as he kissed her chin and started a trail down her neck. "You have not."

"My respectful apologies…" He slid his hands beneath her waist and lifted her into the air as he sat back on his haunches.

She gave a shriek of surprise before her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her hair fell, cascading around them, shrouding them like curtains on either side of their faces. She stared down at him, her lips turned up in a smile, as he stared back at her reverently.

"How I love you, Caroline…" He shook his head, swallowing thickly. "There is no end."

She lowered her forehead to his. "And so it shall stay."

He kissed her, sipping from her lips, his hands splayed across her back, keeping her desperately close.

He would not let go.

Not ever.

…

Caroline returned home that night feeling as though her heart might burst from her chest, so excited and hopeful was she. She looked over her shoulder one last time as she crossed from the edge of the forest to where her small village lay. Though she could no longer make out Elijah's figure, she knew he was still there; he always watched until she reached her home. Her heart skittered; her appreciation for him and his love was bone-deep. Though he worried about her, Caroline felt much safer now that she had reached the village. The boys who had attacked her that fateful morning had not been from her village, and had only happened upon her as she walked through the forest. Now that she was on familiar ground, she felt at ease.

She passed the pen where her neighbor Mary kept her prized pigs locked away, and patted the head of Gregory the goat, tied to a post by Mortimer's rickety shack. She could see the hearth's warm glow through the window of her house in the near distance and smiled. In two days' time, she would know what fate had brought them. If this Trevor fellow brought with him the doppelgänger, they would stay two more weeks, but if he did not, then she and Elijah would be taking their leave.

She would miss her parents. Though they had often had only criticisms to share with her, she still loved them. The memory of her father telling her she was silly compared little to how he would keep her on his knee and teach her the ways of the world. Her mother's disappointment in how she rarely followed rules would be forgotten in favor of her soothing voice singing Caroline to sleep each night of her childhood. William and Elizabeth Forbes had done their best to raise a good, respectful daughter, and while Caroline was sorry she did not always meet their standards she hoped that they would be happier afterwards. Elijah would erase any memory of Caroline and send them off to begin anew, she had decided.

Tonight, however, she would do her best to make them happy, make them proud. She would help her mother with dinner and listen to her father's stories about his trials hunting with Stephen. She would bask in every look they gave her, every smile, and even every frown. They would be memories to last her a lifetime and she would not waste one of them.

However, as Caroline climbed the stairs to her shack and stepped inside, closing the heavy wooden door behind her, she was not confronted with her mother's disapproving frown or her questions of where she had been all day. She was not comforted by her father's hunched over figure at the table, a pipe between his lips, as he went over paperwork for a betrothal that would never be.

A scream caught in her throat as she stared at her parents' beheaded bodies sitting grotesquely in their respective chairs on either side of the hearth. Her heart hammered, her eyes wide, tears clouding them. Her lips moved, to call their names, to rid herself of her nightmare, but no words escaped.

"Ahh…" a deep voice drawled, drawing her attention. "You must be Caroline."

A man stepped from the shadows, a sinister smile pulling at his blood-wet lips. He might have been handsome if not for the terrible darkness that clouded his features. He tipped his head and gave her a mocking bow, his hand at his stomach. "Do not dally, darling…" He held his arms out as he rose once more. "Is that any way to greet your future brother-in-law?"

Caroline choked, her hand pressed hard to her chest, where her heart beat painfully. "_Niklaus?_"

His grin widened, eyes flashing gleefully. "A pleasure, I'm sure."

[**Next**: Part V.]

* * *

**Author's Note**: _Hey everyone! I hope you're all as excited as I am with the direction this is going. For those of you who were hoping this would become an Elijah/Caroline/Klaus story, um... No... That is definitely not at all where I'm going with this. While I respect those who ship Caroline/Klaus, in this story, trust me, he is the villain. As shown above when he kills her parents. Niklaus is quite vengeful and there's going to be so much of him to come. Especially in this next chapter. You have no idea how excited I am. _

_Huge thanks to everyone who read and especially those who reviewed. You have no idea how happy I am each and every time I get a review for this story because I'm honestly so happy with it and so proud of what it's become. Shout out to **Shannon** (itsvolcanoday) for being such a fantastic beta and so encouraging. And to **Mel** (dhfreak) who made such a lovely graphic for it and who reads every new chapter, without fail, and leaves me such lovely feedback. _

_I hope you're all having a wonderful weekend and you liked this update. Please leave a review to let me know! _

_For those of you wondering about **Second Chance**, I will be working on the next chapter this weekend, so have no fears!_

_Thanks! Tons of love!_

**-Lee | Fina**


	5. Part V

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: R  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 6,146  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**V.**

Caroline turned swiftly, grabbing for the door handle, desperate to get outside. She wondered, if she called, would Elijah hear her? He usually left as soon as she reached her door, and with his speed, he would be far away by now, but she thought still to try. However, she had hardly pulled the door open a crack before Niklaus' hand pressed it closed; he was far stronger and faster than she could ever hope to be.

"Now, _sister_, you are not making me feel very welcome," he said, his head bent close enough that she felt his breath across her cheek.

Caroline gave a fearful cry and hurried away from him, bumping into the table as she went, jarring the rough-hewn pewter plates and cutlery her mother had placed in preparation of dinner. She stared at them a moment, her heart in her throat. Her mother had painted tiny blue flowers around the edges of the plates, an attempt to make them more attractive than they were. She remembered watching her mother's steady hand, her squinted eyes, as she added each flower, one by one, careful as could be. She would not let Caroline paint because she was too restless, and had so little patience for these kinds of things. Caroline wanted to gather them up and hug them to her, to use them as a shield against Niklaus; her mother was strong, confident, and brave.

Caroline felt nothing like her mother in that moment; she felt quite cowardly, in fact. Perhaps it was the bodies of her parents, their decapitated heads in their laps, gruesomely twisted expressions showing their terror before Niklaus had struck them dead. She wanted nothing more than to soothe away the shock in her mother's face, to close her father's eyes so they wouldn't stare at her, blaming her for their deaths. Instead, she gripped the edge of the table, her heart hammering thick in her chest, and stared at Niklaus as she blinked back tears.

"How _c-could _you?" She shook her head. "They were _innocent!_"

"How could _I?_" He laughed, his brows hiked high. "Indeed, a very good question… I might ask you the same, seeing as you have been so kind as to _steal _my brother from me." His smile was quickly replaced with a snarling scowl. "What right did _you _have, my dear, to destroy _my _family?"

"_Right_!?" she repeated, her brows furrowed. "What right did _you _have to kill mine? For loving Elijah, you have _taken_ the lives of my parents! Have you succumbed to madness, or are you truly so despicable?"

"I have been called worse, and by those of far more import than you." He sneered, "_You_, a mere _thief_, warrant no explanation from me."

"I am no thief." She had not her parents, but Elijah she would keep. Gathering her hatred, her anger, toward Niklaus, she raised herself up to stand a little taller. "Elijah has every right to his happiness, and who are you to decide that he should not?"

"What fire you have…" He stalked toward her like a predator out for its prey. "What _gall _you have to dare speak to me as if you have any sense of what my _family _needs or deserves… Happiness, you say? You think my brother finds _happiness _with you?"

In a mere moment, her flare of asperity was replaced with fear once more. The proof of what Niklaus could, and would, do sat just feet away. Her body trembled with each step he took, but she tried desperately not to show it. She searched for the bravery she had witnessed in her mother and instead found the girl that her father always said was too silly to speak smartly. "I think he finds love with me, and in it happiness, yes."

"_Love_," Niklaus muttered mockingly, smirking at her. "Is love what he was searching for beneath your dress…? Is love what he found when you traded your virtue to him? _Spoiling _yourself for any future husband?"

"Elijah will be my husband!"

"Elijah cannot be a husband to you! He is a _monster_ that stalks your dreams and drinks from your neck and leaves you to cry yourself to sleep, to _death,_ as he lives on for an eternity!" he yelled, getting progressively louder.

She shook her head, tears brimming over her eyes. The future he painted for her was too vivid to ignore, and she hated how very real it could be. Resentment thickened her voice as she told him, "The only monster I see is the one who dares enter my house and slay my parents because he fears his brother will be happier without him."

Niklaus' hand darted forward, gripping her throat so tightly that she could not breathe. The terrible pressure promised that, should she live, her skin would be livid with bruises the perfect shape and size of his long fingers.

Her eyes widened with surprise, though she should not have been shocked. Had Elijah not told her that hate had been deeply embedded in Niklaus for centuries? Had he not spoken of his brother with both everlasting affection and a dark warning of who he truly was? As she stared at the man whom her beloved Elijah had spent his entire life standing beside, she saw only vicious violence in his eyes, his lips pressed together in a bitter scowl as he glared at her.

She reached up desperately, clawing at his hand to release its strangle-hold.

"You think yourself brave, little girl, but you are only foolish," he told her, his voice low, cutting. He stared her in the eye as her face went red, as her eyes bulged and her lips trembled, desperate to suck in air and failing miserably. Her skin took on a terrible shade of purple and tears spilled from her eyes, wetting her cheeks and dribbling further until they landed atop his hand. He watched, with a sick curiosity, careless of how she struggled. He had lifted her until only her toes scraped the floor, the weight of her body hanging from his grip.

It was not until her struggle had ebbed and her eyes darkened around the corners, that he finally released her. She fell to her knees on the dusty floor, choking still, coughing, dragging in air as her whole body ached with the lack of it.

"Do you know how easy it would be to kill you, Caroline?" he asked, leisurely walking away from her, casting a dismissive eye over the bodies of her parents before he moved to the hearth, where a pot of stew boiled away heartily. He reached in and stirred the food, waving a hand to bring the scent up to his nose, as he spoke casually back to her, "And oh the ways… I could snap your neck, easy as could be. I could behead you, like your lovely parents here…"

Rage, the likes of which she had never known before, rose up inside her. It was not the implied threat of her death that riled her but that he so carelessly spoke of her mother and father. How dare he! How _dare_ he speak of her parents as if they were nothing, so easily disposed of and forgotten. Regardless of the times she felt she had not met their expectations, she had loved them and they her. They had raised her, cared for her, kept her safe all of her life. They were good people who had worked hard to provide for her and each other; they did not deserve this end, but instead to go peacefully in the night, old and well lived.

She raised her head to glare at him, rubbing her throat; she swore she could still feel his fingers pressing against her skin.

"Do you have something you wish to say?" he wondered, seeing the spite that filled her eyes. "A name to call me, perhaps?"

With all the strength she could muster, Caroline pushed herself up, her arms shaking with the effort, until finally she was on her feet. She knew that to tell him of her parents' many attributes would be pointless; he could not care less. So Caroline took what knowledge of him she knew, what weakness he had shown to her, and threw it back at him in the only way she knew would hurt. The truth. "Even if you kill me, he will _never_ forgive you," she rasped.

Niklaus' amusement faded, his eyes narrowed. He dropped the ladle back into the stew pot with a heavy clang. "Is that so?" He walked back toward her, his brow heavy over his eyes as he searched her face. "You think he will pick you, do you? You think he will choose _you_ over me? Over his family?"

"I _know _he will," she bit back, balling her hands into fists, ignoring the way they trembled.

He pursed his lips and shook his head. "You silly girl… Elijah is honorable. He is _loyal_." He pointed at her furiously. "You are only a plaything. Something to distract him for a time. _You_, Caroline, are _nothing_. You are forgettable, do you understand?"

"You are wrong," she whispered emotionally. "Elijah loves me. He—"

"He is _my _brother!" he yelled, banging a fist against his chest. "_Mine!_"

"And he will be _my _husband!"

Niklaus laughed; he threw his head back and laughed at her feelings, at her notions, and for the first time since Elijah had told her he loved her, she felt like the silly girl that people continued to tell her she was. He stumbled away as if his amusement had literally knocked him from his feet, and Caroline felt it like a strike across her face.

She had loved Elijah from the moment she saw him. Not because he was handsome, though he was that, but because for the first time in her life, she saw someone who wanted freedom as desperately as she did. They did not share the same history, they were not the same people, but Elijah _danced_. He danced and reached and hoped just as she had. And she felt it. She _knew_ that he loved her as she did him. It was not the kind of love her parents shared, out of duty and circumstance. It did not follow with the kind of love her father had seen fit to thrust upon her in the form of a husband she did not want. What she found with Elijah was true; it was deep and consuming, and she was certain that she would feel it until death ripped her from his grip.

_Love_, her father once scoffed, _what a useless notion thought up by silly girls!_

And perhaps they were right, perhaps she was silly, but had Elijah not told her that her silliness was something to aspire to? He had loved her, not because she could give him anything, not because she lifted her skirts, as Niklaus' vulgar tongue had so cruelly put it. He simply loved her. And what did Niklaus know of it anyway? What did he know of what they felt, what _Elijah _felt, that he could say any different?

"You laugh, but you know it is true…" she whispered. "If you did not believe he loved me, that he would leave with me, then you would not be here."

He paused, and she felt the tension rise exponentially. He turned, his humor faded, and started back toward her, his shoulders stiff and his hands clasped behind his back. "What a smart girl you are… Here I thought he was only drawn in by that pretty face of yours." He reached for her, letting his hand cup her chin and draw her forward a step.

She grunted in surprise, his fingers pinched tightly. She frowned at him, her brow furrowed.

"I always thought Elijah favored darker hair…" He looked her over. "Did he speak to you of his first love? Of _Tatia?_"

She stared at him, giving no answer.

"Now she was beautiful… _Stunning_, really." He watched her face for a reaction. "I have never seen a more beautiful woman, even after all these years."

"Perhaps she was not so beautiful, and rather it is your greed for the end of your curse that makes you think her so," she spat.

He ground his teeth. "My brother has loose lips, I see…"

"He _trusts _me."

He released her, letting her stumble away from him, rubbing at her sore chin. "Do you understand my predicament here, Caroline?" he asked her, steepling his hands and tapping his chest with his fingers. "You represent an obstacle… One for which I have no need." He smiled darkly. "In fact, your death would solve a problem for me."

"Elijah—"

"Would not ever forgive me," he finished for her, sighing. "Yes, I do remember you saying so. But you see, here is the wonderful thing about that… I have been with Elijah five hundred years, while you have only had his heart a few months. So you see, I think he _will_ forgive me in time." He tipped his head curiously. "Do you not agree?"

Caroline gave it little thought before she grabbed up one of the knives from the table and threw it at him, watching disappointedly as he merely ducked his head and let it fly past him, not the least bit concerned.

Tsking, he wagged a finger. "Now, is that any way to earn my affection?"

"I do not want your affection." She reached for a second knife. If she was going to die at this man's hand, she would go avenging her parents. "I want your _death!_"

He laughed, speeding across the room to her, grabbing her raised wrist in one hand and squeezing until the pain forced her to release her weapon. "I like that fire, Caroline… I think I see what has my brother so smitten."

She glared up at him before snarling through gritted teeth, "If you are going to kill me, have on with it… I care not to look upon your face a moment longer."

"A pity, that," he said as veins spidered out from beneath his blood-black eyes and his teeth elongated. "I fear we have some business to tend to before you die…"

…

Elijah was surprised to find Niklaus was not home when he returned, but decided not to question his luck and instead climbed the stairs to his room. He spent some time organizing his things. When he and Caroline took their leave, it was likely they would not have much time to grab what they wanted, especially if it was not the doppelgänger that Trevor brought with him. Their time would be limited and they would leave with only what they could gather quickly.

He decided to put together a few things and have them sent over early; that way they would be available when they arrived. With only two days until Niklaus' birthday, he knew he had to be careful and prepared. He made sure to pack tokens of each of his siblings; he was not certain whether Rebekah or Kol would be trustworthy after he left, though he hoped they might be quicker to forgive than Niklaus.

A knock at the door roused him from his task and he crossed the room, opening the door to find Agnes, one of the older servants, standing nervously on the other side.

She curtsied. "Begging your pardon, Lord Elijah, but the Lord Niklaus is calling for you." She bowed her head, glancing at him briefly. "He has a young lady with him, sir."

Elijah paused, uncertain why that was of any import considering the hordes of women his brother had paraded through the estate in the past. Niklaus had long ago compelled the servants never to tell any outsiders what they had seen, though he had not compelled them not to be afraid of him or the sights they witnessed.

"Thank you." He stepped out of his room, closing his door behind him.

A fidgety Agnes had not yet fled, leaving Elijah curious to her behavior.

"Was there something more?" he queried.

"The girl Lord Niklaus has with him…" she began, frowning. "He… He kept calling her his _sister-in-law_, milord."

Elijah's face fell, his eyes widening with acute understanding. "_Caroline_."

He left from Agnes' company at an inhuman speed, appearing in the dining room seconds later, choking on his panic.

Niklaus stood across the room, one hand buried beneath Caroline's hair, wrapped around the nape of her neck. "_Brother!_" he called cheerfully, smirking at him. "Look what fair beauty has stumbled upon us for dessert…"

Elijah's eyes darted between them; his brother stood tall, mocking, the very image of triumph, while Caroline was terrified, trapped in his grasp. He stared at her, asking silently if she was all right, though he bore witness to the fact that she was not. Her cheeks were wet with tears and she stood so very stiffly, her chest heaving as she panted with fear. Blood wet the front of her dress, a ragged bite clear on her throat.

Something inside of him snapped; both his protective instinct and his possessiveness surged forward. "You hurt her!? You _fed _from her!" he snarled, stepping further into the room, his hands fisting aggressively.

Niklaus raised a hand to stop him, his brows hiked. "Now, Elijah, if anyone is hurt, it is _me_…" he argued. "Played for a fool, I was left completely unaware that you were planning a future with Miss Caroline here…" He gave her a shake and a cry escaped her.

Elijah jolted forward another few feet but stopped when Niklaus' dark glare pierced him. He ground his teeth and gripped the back of a chair to keep from attacking. He tried to focus, to configure a way to convince his brother not to hurt her and for them all to leave the room safely, but he could not see past the situation at hand. Niklaus, a brother he knew to be vengeful and violent, had Caroline gripped close enough that he could kill her before Elijah could get to them. There was no way around that. Even with his speed, Niklaus was just as quick and would not hesitate. Elijah took a deep breath and forced himself to appear calm, even as fury and fear thrummed desperately through him.

"Did I not ask you, _repeatedly_, why you were behaving so strangely?" Niklaus wondered, raising an eyebrow. "Did I not suggest, even _approve,_ of you having a lover…?"

He opened his mouth to reply but his brother's booming voice interrupted him.

"And did you not tell me that you were only distracted by our search?" He beat a fist against his chest. "Did you not tell me that you would not leave? That you were with me, by my side, at the _worst _of times…" He stared at him demandingly. "Well? _Brother?!_"

Silence filled the room, the estate, for a long moment.

When he was certain he would not lash out in return, Elijah raised his chin and replied, "I have spent five centuries by your side, _dutifully_… I have served you, helped you, created whole, elaborate lies for you, killed for you, _bled _for you!" He walked toward him slowly, his eyes narrowed. "And all I wanted was my freedom. All I wanted was Caroline… Have I not _earned _that?"

"_No!_" Niklaus hollered, spittle leaving his lips with his rage. "Loyalty does not end when you fall in love! Family does not stop because you find some little _strumpet _to sate your lust." He gripped her by her hair and yanked her head back, ignoring her pained cry. "You promised me, you promised forever, Elijah, and there is no taking it back!"

"Then I lied." He shook his head, ever so faintly. "Five centuries was _enough_."

Slowly, Niklaus' face twisted into sadistic amusement. He threw his head back as he laughed, the sound reverberating through the tense room. Collecting himself, he turned to face Caroline. "And this is your prize, yes?" He cupped her cheek, wiping at her tears and shushing her. "This is the great Elijah's _love_…" he mocked.

She stared at him, hyperventilating, her eyes darting toward Elijah, who was watching worriedly, hesitant to walk closer lest he vex his brother further.

"How easy it would be to strip her every memory of you, brother," Niklaus said, gazing into Caroline's eyes.

Elijah felt a pang in his chest, his brow knotting.

"I could compel her to forget you, or _hate _you, what say you to that?"

His eyes darted between his brother and his love. "Niklaus, _please_…" he begged, his words thick in his throat.

"How would it feel to look into her beautiful eyes and see only her hatred for you…?" He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, grinning as she flinched away from him. "For no reason but that you love her." His lips parted as he stared her down, giving the idea deep consideration.

"No," Caroline whispered, blinking rapidly, her tears swimming thicker. "Please. I will not…" She shook her head. "I _could not_ hate him."

Elijah could hear her heartbeat racing, pounding thick in his ears.

"Ah, but you see, my dear, _you could_…" Niklaus searched her face. "Unfortunately, my brother could not hate you… And I cannot force him to." He smirked. "So you see why I must find another solution."

"I…" She looked to Elijah. Suddenly, she let out a breath, blinked away her tears, and raised her chin. Proudly, she declared, "I do not regret it."

"And that… is what makes you so foolish," Niklaus whispered.

He slid one hand down the delicate length of her neck, his thumb briefly brushing against her rapidly thudding pulse, before his fingers slid around to the nape of her neck and squeezed.

She flinched in reaction and he grinned darkly. "So fragile," he murmured. "So _human_."

Caroline's eyes rose to meet him, rimmed red but fiery with hatred.

He bent to whisper tauntingly against her ear, "Does it comfort you that I will keep watch over our Elijah?"

She shuddered against him, revulsion clear on her face. "I pity him your company."

He laughed, turning his head to peer at his brother, amused with the situation he had created.

Elijah looked between them fearfully. "_Brother_…?" he pleaded, his brow knit, a vein throbbing at his forehead.

"Do you hear how he begs for my loyalty now? For my understanding?" Niklaus tsked as he turned his gaze back to a shaking Caroline, hiking his eyebrows at her.

Her chest heaved as she breathed in deep, desperate, certain of her coming end.

Elijah could tell his brother enjoyed her fear; it showed in the twisted smile that turned up Niklaus' lips.

"I think this was a lesson well learned. A monster cannot love a human, and a brother should not abandon his kin…" His face darkened with purpose as he nodded. "And you, dear Caroline, shall pay the price for both."

Her eyes swiftly turned away from him as she whispered, "Eli—"

The suspense of it all ended with an echoing crack as Niklaus twisted his hands in opposite directions so abruptly that her whole body spun a circle. The fragile bones of Caroline's neck snapped under the pressure as easily as a twig, her head left at a grotesquely unnatural angle. For a moment, she looked as if she were dancing, as if she were mid-twirl. But then her brilliant blue eyes seemed to dull and darken, like a candle snuffed out as its brightest. Her arms, which would have reached high above, fingers searching for that elusive freedom, were instead limp, lifeless, hanging heavy at her sides. She fell from the air, as if every song the world had known had come to an abrupt end, and so did her dance. She was left in a heap on the floor, stripped of all the light that once glowed from deep inside her.

"_Nooo…!_" Elijah's scream echoed through the house, torn, his agony enough to make even Niklaus turn his head away, lips settling into a frown.

Elijah was at her side in an instant, grabbing her up, cradling her head, his hands stroking her hair back from her face. "Caroline…" He wiped at the stray tears on her cheeks. "_Caroline!_" He shook her, cradling his fingers behind her shattered neck. He bent his head to her, his forehead pressed to hers, and listened frantically for the heartbeat he knew all too well. But there was nothing. Nothing but the crackling of the fire in the hearth and the faint heartbeats of the servants in the house.

She was dead; she was lost to him.

His mouth fell open on a silent cry until he dragged in a desperate, gulping breath, and let it out in a shattered, tormented yell. He hugged her close, burying his face in her hair, letting the perfume of her skin fill his every breath. His eyes burned as he squeezed them shut, wishing it were a dream, a nightmare, that he would wake in the morning and return to their clearing to find her there, dancing, laughing, singing.

He could hear her— He could hear her singing to him. Her voice, so beautiful it put all others to shame. He could hear the birds chirping and the tree branches rustling. Yes. _Yes!_ It was a nightmare that he would wake from, and she would giggle as he crossed the dewy grass to take her hands, to twirl her around, light as air on the tips of her toes. She would lean up and kiss him before dancing out of reach and he would catch her. He would lay her down on the blanket she brought with her and strip her of her dress; he would kiss her and love her and promise her an eternity of bliss. And they would lie together, with him endlessly enchanted by everything she did, and said, and was. From her laughter, her smile, her kindness and hope, to her soft hair, her rosy cheeks, and how her blue eyes lit up whenever they met his.

But it was no nightmare; he could feel that in the way she limply lay in his arms, with no breath passing her lips.

He held her so tightly he feared he might break her bones further. Every inch of him was tensed, every muscle clenched, as he slowly drew his head back, peering down at her. Her eyes were still open, wide with surprise. He reached up, his hand shaking, and closed them, feeling the soft brush of her lashes on his skin as his whole body shuddered with the misery of loss.

"How could you?" he asked, raising his head to look at his brother, his eyes narrowed, rimmed red.

Niklaus let out a scornful laugh. "That is exactly what she asked me when she found me with her parents. Who, by the way, were _terrible_ dinner company. One might think it was a _blessing _that I saved you the headache of having to meet with them…" He snorted. "Which is poetic, really, since I removed theirs _heads _entirely…"

Elijah's jaw twitched as a dark resolve settled inside him. He laid Caroline down on the floor, careful with her despite knowing she could not feel him. He brushed her soft hair from her face, remembering a time when she would have smiled at his touch, blinking sleepily up at him as they lay entwined in the grass. She would have caught his hand and held it close, kissing his fingertips affectionately. But she did not move, nor reach for him, and he would not know her smile, her kiss, again. His heart ached at the truth and his knees trembled beneath him as he pushed to his feet, staring down at her, feeling a deep hollowness where once his joy had been. "You have exceeded your limits, brother."

"I have no limits," he dismissed.

In a split second, Elijah had crossed the space between them, gripped Niklaus by his throat, and slammed him against a wall so hard that the cement cracked, splintering in all directions, the bricks behind him letting out a puff of dust. He pinned him there and glared, his teeth bared in a vicious snarl. "I asked for only _one _thing in five centuries and you _took _her from me."

Niklaus grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it off but could not. "I need not air to breathe," he choked out, though his eyes bulged wide at the pressure.

"You still feel pain," Elijah countered, squeezing harder.

He groaned, twisting in his grip. "Did she… mean… so much?"

"She meant _everything_," Elijah declared.

He stepped back, bringing Niklaus with him, only to twist the upper half of his body and throw his brother across the room, watching as he crashed into a bookshelf, destroying it in the process, and fell to the ground, covered with the crushed remnants. He found no satisfaction and stalked toward him, his eyes dark. Niklaus had hardly pushed himself up, giving his head a shake, before Elijah had grabbed him by the front of his tunic and lifted him until they were face to face.

"You speak of family, of _loyalty_?" Elijah snarled. "Neither applies to you any longer where I am concerned." He slammed Niklaus' face against the wall; the bricks shattered his nose upon impact.

Niklaus fell, shouting with the brief flash of pain he felt, while Elijah simply left him, turning instead to walk back toward his lost love.

But Niklaus was a quick healer; he leapt up and charged Elijah from behind, giving an enraged yell as he did. Using the back of his brother's tunic, he twisted Elijah around and threw him at the table until it cracked and splintered beneath him. Taking him by the shoulders of his tunic, Niklaus picked him up and threw him at another wall, watching as he ricocheted off of it and landed on the ground. Moving to his side, Niklaus kicked him in the stomach, once, twice, three times before he stepped back, licking up the fallen blood from his nose.

"Is it helping?" Niklaus wondered, bending over, hands on his knees, to stare at him curiously. "Are you releasing your anger?"

"You think one fight will relieve me of my hatred for you?" Elijah pushed to his feet. "Are you so crazed that you do not understand the _depths_ of my feelings?"

Niklaus rolled his eyes, scoffing at him. "She is but one woman, Elijah… There are plenty more to come, and more too who will serve a greater purpose."

Elijah reached out and gripped him by his throat, pulling him in until they were nose to nose. "Hear me… I will never forgive you for this, Niklaus. You… _took _her from me." He pressed his lips together in a frown to keep them from trembling as tears spilled down his cheeks. His voice cracked emotionally as he wondered, "Was it so long ago that you do not remember what it felt to _love_, brother?"

"That was too many lifetimes ago to matter," he choked out, lips curled in a sneer.

"Then I pity you." Elijah released him, watching as he stumbled back, reaching for his throat, glaring at him.

"_You _pity _me?_"

He shook his head, his expression dark with defeat. "I am finished with you." He turned and walked back to Caroline's lifeless form. He would bury her in the clearing, he thought. In the very center, where she once danced, he would dig her grave with his own two hands and unite her with the earth. And when he was finished, he would cover her grave with daisies and mark it with their flag. Yes, she would like that, he decided.

Niklaus stayed him, a hand on his shoulder, whirling him around to face him. "And where do you think you will go? What future do you see for yourself now?"

"What does it matter to you?" He shrugged off his hand. "It is your doing that finds us here…"

"You will still leave me?" he queried, his brow furrowed.

He laughed incredulously. "You thought if you took her away I would not have reason to leave?"

"The only reason you sought to leave was because you wanted to be with her and thought I would not allow it, is that not true?"

"I had planned to stay until Trevor brought you the doppelgänger. You would break your curse and my duty would be done. Caroline and I would leave here, we would be free. _You _would be free." His gaze fell. "Now… I care not what happens to you, or I, or anyone."

"Do not be so _dramatic_…"

Elijah snarled back, "Do not speak to me of how I should act!"

Slowly, Niklaus grinned, his hands finding his hips. "She said you would not forgive me."

"She was _right_."

"I see that…" He nodded. "I suppose it serves me well that I listened to her."

Elijah's brow furrowed in confusion.

"She will wake," Niklaus told him simply, casting his eyes to her prone form. "I fed her my blood earlier this night…"

"You _turned _her?" He struggled for words. "T-To what end?"

"You should thank me," he said, cheerfully. "Now your beloved Caroline can spend more than just her mortal life with you." He reached out and clapped Elijah's arm before turning on his heel to leave.

"Niklaus," Elijah called, encouraging him to stop and look back at him. "_Why?_"

His eyes dropped thoughtfully before he answered, "I wanted you to answer some of my questions, without guile… To achieve that I needed you to believe that there was no point in lying, that you had nothing left to lie _for_…"

He stared at him; it was, to Niklaus' way of thinking, a logical reason. And still, Elijah was not so certain that was why his brother had done something so elaborate.

Niklaus, seeing his disbelief, raised an eyebrow as he admitted, "And because she was right; you would not have forgiven me if I had truly taken her from you… But know this, brother, _love_ is a vampire's greatest weakness..." He smirked. "And I now know yours."

With that, he left, whistling under his breath as if he had not a worry in the world.

Elijah turned, hesitant to hope, and his gaze landed on Caroline. He moved to her slowly, bending to pick her up, cradling her in his arms.

The transformation would take time and he prayed that his brother was not playing some terrible trick upon him. Far too much had passed in so little time. He could not bear the thought of waiting for her to wake only to have his hope dashed once more. He bent to kiss her forehead lingeringly, a shuddering breath leaving his lips. She was not yet cold, but she would be. The warmth he had once found in her body would flee, and not just from death's icy grip, for even if she should live again, her spirit would no longer be as hopeful as it once was. Too much had happened to her at the hands of his brother. He feared what it could mean, but could admit his own selfishness in wanting to keep her, regardless of whether she was the same. He would still love her. He would _always_ love her.

As he left the dining hall and crossed the house, climbing the stairs to his room with her held carefully in his arms, he knew it would not be easy. She would have so many questions, of what she was and what it meant for her, and there was much preparation he had to do. She would need to feed, and a ring to keep the sun from burning her. She would need to be taught control, of her new strength, speed and especially her hunger. Caroline would never forgive herself if she killed another.

Stepping into his room, he laid her down in the center of his bed. Even still, with Niklaus' promise that she would rise, Elijah feared it would not take. He gazed down at her, pale and beautiful, her neck mangled and bruised. He sat next to her and took her head, pressing it to his forehead as he prayed that whatever force brought him to her in the clearing would return her to him now. He prayed she was not lost to him, as that was all that mattered.

And he knew, as time passed and he felt her skin turn cold, that if she did not wake, then he would destroy Niklaus, whatever the cost.

His brother would not know his mercy again.

[**Next**: Part VII.]

**Author's Note**:_ So sorry for the wait, but this one needed a lot of editing. It was originally much, much longer after I added more to it, so it was cute down quite a bit to a place where it ended the chapter better. I hope you enjoyed it. It was a very intense chapter, a lot of emotion between these three. I loved getting to write Klaus more in-depth, what a fantastically complicated character he is. You'll certainly be seeing a lot more of him in future! _

_Huge thanks goes out to **Shannon** (itsvolcanoday), who, and I'm not even kidding, makes this story that much more amazing. It wouldn't be half as good without her skillful encouragement and fixes. You rock my writing world! And to **Mel** (dhfreak) for making not one, but two, stunning graphics for this story. You are amazing and I adore you!_

_And to you, all of my lovely readers. You're all so encouraging and I'm so glad you're reading and enjoying and leaving me such wonderful feedback. This ship has a pretty small following, but a fantastic one! Thank you all so much and I hope you'll leave a review this time around and tell me what you think of everything!_

_Thanks for understanding on the wait!_

**- Lee | Fina**


	6. Part VI

**Title**: I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)  
**Category**: The Vampire Diaries  
**Genre**: Romance/Angst/Drama  
**Ship**: Caroline/Elijah  
**Chapter Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Overall Rating**: NC-17/Explicit  
**Word Count**: 8,446  
**Summary**: [AU, set in 1492] Elijah has spent five centuries at Niklaus' side, doing everything in his power to help his brother find the doppelgänger. But when his chance to find happiness is found dancing in the forest, he has to decide whether love or loyalty will be his companion for eternity.

**_I belong with you, you belong with me (You're my sweetheart)_**  
-Novel-

**VI.**

It was hours before Caroline woke, and when she did, it was with a startled, broken cry. She sat up quickly, her hand raised to her throat, and desperately sucked in air as tears filled her eyes.

"Caroline." Elijah crossed the room to her hurriedly, sitting beside her atop the bed she found herself lying upon. He reached for her, cupping her face delicately, and gazed at her. "You woke," he whispered, with such emotion that she knew he had not been certain she would.

The memories of what had happened were suddenly upon her, choking her with how horrific, how life-altering they were. Her brimming tears escaped, a flood that warmed her chilled cheeks. "Niklaus… H-He—" She shook her head, sucking in a shaky breath. "After I left you, when—when I returned home…"

His gaze fell, his shoulders following, and he swallowed thickly as he nodded. "Your parents…"

"He killed them. Elijah, he…" She closed her eyes tightly as her body throbbed from the ache of loss, as it spread through her bones and shook her. "Their _h-heads_…"

He pulled her to him, gathering her against his chest, and stroked his fingers through her hair. "He told me. I—I am so sorry, Caroline… If it were not for me, for my deception, he would not have lashed out at you, at your parents…"

She trembled in his arms, hugging him close. "He said such terrible things. He… He told me that you could not love me, that we could not be together, and he… He promised me that I would die this night. Why…" Her fingers gripped his tunic. "I felt it, as surely as I feel you in my arms. He killed me."

His hug tightened to nearly painful. "He fed you his blood, did he not?"

She flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. "Yes. He forced it down my throat until I was nearly choking on it… And he bit me, not until we arrived here though… We stood in the parlor and he— He did not bite me like you did. There— He did not warn me, nor did he linger. He simply bit into my neck and it—It _hurt_."

"A ruse," he murmured, his fingers running up and down her back soothingly. "To anger me, I am certain, but also to hide the blood he fed you as it must have wet your dress; he had to cover it so I would not know you would wake." He sighed, slumping against her, his resignation obvious. "This is my doing, you did not ask for this."

"I do not understand..." She shook her head in confusion. "Why did I not die?"

"You _did_ die… As we all do before we change."

She went completely still against him, her eyes opening wide. "I… I am a vampire?" she whispered thickly.

"Not yet. Your transformation has yet to be completed."

She pulled away from him, pushing on his arms as he was hesitant to release her, but finally they were face to face, her hands braced on his shoulders as she searched his eyes. "And if I do not complete it?"

His jaw clenched. "You would die, and you would not wake this time."

Her breath hitched as she blinked rapidly, trying to understand the brevity of what he said. "And _h-how_…? How would I… complete this?"

He licked his lips as he raised a hand, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "You must drink from someone…"

"You?" she wondered, though she was certain he would disagree, and the apologetic expression he gave her was all the answer she needed. "I cannot kill…" She shook her head. "It is not in me."

"You would not have to. You need only to feed; it does not have to kill them," he assured her.

Her eyes darted around the room as she struggled with what he was telling her. Caroline, for all her want of a future with Elijah, had not considered the complications very much. She understood that he would live forever and she would not, that he would drink blood and she would not, that she would age and he would not. But she had not considered the very real fact that she could become like him and their time together could stretch to an eternity. While she had been curious about his nature, about what he was, she could not honestly say that she had ever truly thought about being so herself. Now, however, she had no choice. It was either to be a vampire or not to be at all.

"If I never drink, then I simply die?" she asked, her brow wrinkled.

He nodded slowly, and she could tell by the firm purse of his lips that he wanted to tell her she _must _drink, that she could not die. But Elijah was a good man, he was devoted and honorable, and he would not take her choice from her, no matter how much it might hurt him. Truth be told, however, as much as Caroline detested the idea of drinking blood, she hated more the idea of not being with Elijah. So much had happened; Niklaus knew about her, he had killed both her and her parents, and yet… Here she sat, together with Elijah, one last opportunity for happiness and freedom.

"If I did… _When_ I do…" She raised her eyes to meet his. "Please, do not let me kill them."

He sighed, relieved, and nodded. He reached up, burying his fingers in her hair, and drew her close, until their foreheads touched. "I thought I had lost you…" He let out a shaky breath. "At least before, when I thought you could not accept me, I could comfort myself with the thought that you would be alive and well, that you would marry and have children, but when he took you…" He swallowed thickly, gripping her hair tightly. "I could not bear it."

Caroline's heart lurched in her chest and she smiled softly. Everything that Niklaus had said, all of those terrible things he had spat at her, that Elijah could not and would not love her, faded entirely, no longer festering inside her. She knew Elijah, she knew his heart, and he loved her as dearly and desperately as she did him. "Fear not then… You have not, and will not, lose me."

He nodded faintly before his lips found hers, pressing, slanting, hard and heavy against her own. She hummed appreciatively and leaned into him, surprised when he fell back against the bed as if she had pushed him, seemingly pinned under her small frame.

He chuckled against her lips and opened his eyes. "You are much stronger than before."

"I… see that." Her lips pursed. "But how can that be if I have not yet drunk from anyone?"

"You are in transition; your body is already changing. When you are ready to drink, your teeth…" He flicked his tongue up and dragged the tip over her incisors. "They will grow longer, sharper, so that you can pierce the skin."

"Can I do the things you can do?" she teased lightly. "Can I run as swiftly as the wind? Fight as deftly as a seasoned knight?"

He grinned at her merriment and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, tracing the shell with his thumb. "You will be faster and stronger after you drink."

Her eyes fell and darted away momentarily. "When I do, will…" She frowned. "Will it feel as… _good _as it did when you bit me?"

He shook his head. "There are different ways to bite someone… When you and I were together, it was _intimate_. You will not feel the same rush. There will be satisfaction, but it will not be carnal. You are taking from them what is necessary; their blood gives you life."

"And when you and I are intimate…" Her cheeks warmed with a flush. "Can you still bite me?"

His lips curved at the corner in a suggestive smile she knew all too well, one that made heat coil in her belly.

He nipped at her lower lip playfully and raised an eyebrow. "As often as we please."

She shivered against him, the promise in his voice making her forget, for a moment, the situation they were facing. But the gravity of it soon returned and she pushed herself up, still seated in his lap. "Do I have very long?" she queried. "Until I must drink from someone."

"It would be best to do so as soon as possible."

Caroline chewed her lip uncertainly.

"We can have one of the servants come to our room," he told her, soothingly rubbing his hands up and down her forearms before he tangled their fingers together and squeezed.

"Would they not mind?" she worried.

He half-smiled. "Many here have offered their blood; some believe it to be an honor."

Her nose wrinkled; she thought that was quite an odd thing for anyone to believe.

In the blink of an eye, he managed to move from beneath her to stand beside the bed. "I will help you," he promised, "if this is what you truly want."

What did she truly want? she wondered. Just this morning, her only desire had been to run away with Elijah, to begin her life anew, far away from the village she had grown up in. She would see the world, her hand tucked in Elijah's; her partner, her love, forever. And now, her life seemed to have changed so drastically. She was not even certain of whether they would still leave, still flee from Niklaus. She only knew that she was alive, her parents were not, and Elijah was with her, offering to stand by her and guide her as she transformed from human to vampire.

It would seem that her wish for a new life had been honored, despite the tragedy that allowed it so. And truly, Caroline wanted to take hold of that chance, to grasp it tightly and allow herself the freedom she had so desperately craved. However, as the rush of hope for her future washed over her, it contrasted simultaneously with a flood of doubt. How could she be so happy when her own parents were slain? How _dare_ she find happiness, find freedom, when it was her doing, her actions that cost them their lives? Uncertainty filled her heart to an overwhelming degree, leaving her conflicted. While it was true that the life she wanted was still possible, it was how it had come to be that made guilt sour the affair.

She turned her head and stared at Elijah a long moment, taking in every handsome plane of his face. Her Elijah. A man she had risked everything for; her heart, her future, she had even been willing to abandon her family, the only true constant she had ever known, to be with him. Only it was never meant to be like this.

Her eyes pricked with tears as sorrow chased away the happiness, the hope, she had felt just moments earlier. "Do you remember when I begged you to remove my parents' memories? I wanted them to be _free_. I did not want them to hurt…" Her voice caught in her throat, burning. "It would seem, however, that I caused them the gravest of pains… I caused their deaths, Elijah."

"No." He shook his head. "You must not think that way, Caroline. It was not you, it—"

"It was Niklaus who rendered them lifeless, but it was my choices, my _actions _that were the cause of their deaths."

"If our love is to blame for this tragedy, then it is I who should carry it. Niklaus was my responsibility. My deception, my want for independence, is what goaded him into this."

"My parents were _my_ responsibility, Elijah. I made the selfish decision not to tell them anything I knew. I let them think they were safe, that there were not unseen enemies waiting for them, and they paid for my falsities." She squeezed her eyes closed. "And I will hold on to that all the days of my life. I will mourn for them, I will regret my part in their murders…"

He took her hands, squeezing them, and brought them to his lips to kiss.

"I miss them, Elijah," she murmured softly. "I want nothing more than to tell my mother my wrongdoings. I want her to pet my hair as she did when I was a young child and tell me that she does not blame me, that she forgives me and understands that I never meant for harm to come to her, nor my father. They were not meant to be the _cost_ of my heart."

Caroline closed her eyes tight and imagined herself in her home, the hearth warm as she knelt at her mother's feet, her head cradled in her lap as Elizabeth gently stroked her hair. She remembered the smell of her, of spices, oils, and fire, familiar and comforting as they filled each breath. Her mother's soothing voice would tell her it was okay, that she understood. And her father would stand, strong and silent, as she told him she had no idea Niklaus would find out, that their lives would pay for her love, and that she had never wanted harm to come to them. His hand, large and rough with calluses, would touch the crown of her head, a silent sign of his forgiveness. She would find comfort there, in their embrace, their scents and sounds. The two people who had been beside her since she was born; her mother's steadying hand on her shoulder, her father's knowing voice of reason guiding her on her path.

As she opened her eyes, however, she found she was not at home, her parents were not there, and her fanciful hopes of making amends faded back to reality. Truth be told, her dream was exactly that; a farfetched delusion. Much as she wanted to believe that her parents would understand her and grant her forgiveness, it would not have been so easy anywhere except for in her dreams. In fact, she was fairly certain they would have some terrible words for her to hear. It did not matter, though; she loved her parents even when they had little encouragement to offer her. Even when she knew they would blame and ridicule her for her part in their deaths. Despite knowing this, knowing how her mother would yell and her father would look down at her for falling in love, Caroline found she still wished she could speak to them one last time.

"There is a part of me that believes I do not deserve this…" she admitted to Elijah, her voice distant. "Eternal life should not be given to those who have caused their parents' tragedy."

His fingers tightened around her, worrying that her mind had been changed. That her pain and her loss over her parents would still take her from him.

"My mother was a strong woman. She was _brave_… I have no doubt that she fought for her life, that she did not simply allow it to happen… When Niklaus sought to scare me, when I thought he would tear my heart from my chest, I thought of her, I wanted to be as strong as her. And I tried…" Her eyes filled with tears. "I tried to be as courageous as she must have been when he slayed her… I tried not to show him my fear."

He hushed her as she began to cry, her head falling in shame.

"I am not as strong as she was, Elijah. I feared Niklaus. I thought surely he would kill me and be done with it. The cruelty in his eyes, the dark promise that lay there…" She shuddered, biting her lip.

"There is good reason to fear him, Caroline. You would be remiss not to."

She raised her chin then and stared at him squarely, though her eyes were ringed in red and wet with tears. "He _took _my parents… He made me feel stupid, made me question whether I was good enough…" She shook her head. "I will not allow it to happen again. I will not cower from him."

"You were brave," he assured her. "In those last moments, when he tried to scare you, you did not cower."

She appreciated his words but refused to let them soothe her. "I may not ever be as strong as he is, but I will not let that… _monster _dictate my life. And I _will _live, as long as I can. For my parents, who ought never to have been hurt, for myself, and for _you_, Elijah…"

He let out a heavy, relieved sigh.

Her lips trembled as she tried to smile reassuringly at him. "Please, will you call for the servant, if they are willing…?"

He stared at her a moment longer, and she was sure he could see the uncertainty that plagued her expression. It was not that she wanted to drink from this servant, nor did she truly want to be a vampire; but Caroline understood surviving and this was how she would do so.

The servant that Elijah brought to their room was young, perhaps the same age as Caroline, and she was rather plain. She was nervous too; Caroline could see in the way her eyes darted and she shuffled her feet.

Caroline moved to the edge of the bed and climbed off of it, reaching hurriedly toward the girl and taking her hands. "Please do not be afraid of me," she urged. "I… I will not…" She wanted to say she would not harm her, but that was not the truth, as she would be biting her skin and drinking her blood in mere moments. Somehow, telling her that she would not _kill _her seemed a trivial distinction, as she had only just faced Niklaus in a situation that had shaken her to her very core.

"Elijah?" she murmured, turning to him for direction.

"You can compel her," he told her, standing just a few short feet away, his hands clasped at his back, giving her room to do as she pleased. "Tell her not to be afraid, to be quiet, whatever you wish, and she will obey."

She chewed her lip uncertainly. "Is that fair?"

"She can either be afraid and scream, or you can give her comfort… I understand that you do not want to take her decision from her, Caroline. It is up to you."

She turned her head and peered at the girl. "What would _you_ like?"

The girl looked at her and then to Elijah and finally back to her. "I… I would not like to die this day."

Caroline nodded. "And I will not kill you!"

She blinked quickly, tears collecting in her eyes. "I do not want to be afraid… Lord Niklaus makes me feel p-pleasure, but I…" She hiccupped, dropping her gaze in shame.

Caroline's fingers caught her under the chin and raised it so they were eye to eye once more. "_Do not feel pain_," she said, her voice hesitant but compelling all the same. "_Be calm and know that, when this is over, you will be all right_."

Slowly, the girl blinked, and finally offered a small smile, content and relaxed.

Pleased, Caroline looked to Elijah for more guidance. He walked toward them and reached out to brush the girl's brown hair away from her neck and behind her shoulder. His teeth elongated and his eyes darkened while veins appeared beneath them, as he ducked down and pierced her skin. He did not drink from her as he did Caroline, and she appreciated that as, when she saw his mouth so close to the girl's skin, she felt a stab of irritation and jealousy run through her, stronger than she had ever felt.

Her attention was quickly drawn, however, as a red bead of blood pearled atop the girl's pale, white skin. Caroline cried out in surprise as she felt her teeth throb painfully before extending. Her hand raised to cover her quivering lips and she squeezed her eyes shut as she panted through the pain.

"It will pass, I promise you," Elijah assured. His fingers rose to stroke her hair. "You must drink, Caroline… Put your mouth over my bite and taste her."

She hesitated only a moment as, when she breathed in, she caught the coppery scent on the air and felt hunger fill her as never before. It made her ache with desperation, her stomach twisting up painfully. She licked her lips, her fingers twitching, and she reached for the girl, gripping her by the shoulders and drawing her close. She buried her face in the girl's shoulder and let her tongue lick up the drop that rolled down her neck. Immediately, she felt something inside of her snap and she pressed her teeth down hard enough to pierce completely through the skin. Blood filled her mouth, pooling beneath her tongue and coating her teeth. She sucked and lapped at the girl's neck, feeding the ferocious appetite burning inside her. She held on so tightly, she swore she could feel bruises forming beneath her fingertips. She drank and drank, taking comfort in the warm liquid that coated her throat as she swallowed. It was filling a need inside her, sating that clawing hunger with every drop that filled her mouth.

It was only as she felt the body against her begin to go limp that she drew her mouth back and panted, confused as she turned her eyes toward Elijah and called his name fearfully.

"You did fine." He reached for the girl and pulled her out of Caroline's grip. The girl stumbled, a dazed smile spreading her lips, and did not fight him. "She will live," he promised.

Caroline stared at the blood that soaked the front of the girl's dress and licked her lips. "Can I have more?" She licked her lips, sticky with warm blood.

"Not of her," he said, raising his own wrist and biting it open. He drained it into the girl's mouth so she would heal before he walked her to the door.

"Please, Elijah, just… Just one more taste," Caroline pleaded, following after him, reaching for his back, fingers gripping his tunic.

"It is for your own good that I do not let you."

Another servant stood on the other side of the door, this one older, plumper, and she accepted the waif-thin girl from Elijah, holding her up.

"Take her to her room to rest," Elijah ordered.

"Yes, Lord Elijah," she answered, before walking off with the sluggish girl.

Caroline began pacing, her fingers twitching. "I—I am still hungry."

"It will fade. You are new to this…" He reached for her, taking her hands and drawing her close. "Do you trust me?"

She stared up at him and swallowed tightly, the faint taste of blood still warm on her tongue. "I do."

He pressed his forehead to hers. "I will teach you control. If you want never to kill, then I will teach you, but you must trust me, you must do as I say in this matter."

"I will." She nodded. "I do not want to kill. I just… I—The hunger, it feels so… _heavy_."

He raised her hands up and he ducked his mouth to them, sucking the tips of her fingers between his lips. "And you will be fed."

She watched him and felt his tongue as it swirled around her fingers, lapping up every drop of blood that lingered. When her fingers were cleaned, he found her mouth and he sucked the blood from her lips, her tongue, and he licked it from her chin.

A new hunger replaced the old one and Caroline did not pause as they stumbled back toward the bed. He deftly removed her dress, ridding her of the fabric that was stained with her own dried blood and the warm, wet blood of the girl she had just drunk from. She reached for his tunic, dragging it up his body, wanting to feel his skin. However, she had not anticipated that her movements would be faster, stronger, than ever before, and the fabric ripped in her hands.

She blinked in surprise and held her hands up apologetically. "I cannot control this new-found strength," she worried. "What if I hurt you?"

Elijah merely smiled at her, shaking his head. He pulled his tunic free and tossed the ruined fabric away from him. "I am not so breakable," he assured her, with some arrogance. To assert this, he tore her underclothes from her with both hands, letting them fall to the floor in tatters before he lifted her by her hips and laid her back on the bed. Raising a brow, he told her, "And neither are you."

Caroline was only mildly surprised at the surge of lust she felt at seeing his show of power. She was well aware that Elijah was much stronger than any regular man. He had always been gentle with her though. His hands touched her like she was glass, like she was as delicate as lace, and he feared he might tarnish her somehow. Those moments when they were together in their clearing, when he held her tighter, plunging into her warmth depths, his body tensed with pleasure, she could see that thin thread of control tenuously keeping him at bay. A shiver of awareness went through her as she realized that he would not need to hold back now. Certainly, he was still stronger than her, but he would not have to hold back as much as he had.

Elijah had already shown her pleasure like she had never known; she wondered if there were lengths they hadn't yet reached. If there was any more that he could show her. As she watched him from where she lay on the bed, she bit her lip, enjoying the touch of his fingers as they circled her ankles, her feet braced at the edge of the bed. He traced his way up the backs of her legs, drawing soothing circles firmly across her skin. She felt a swooping sensation in her belly, of need and want and promise that all would be known soon enough.

He tapped the backs of her knees before he parted them, spreading her open for him. She swallowed thickly, watching his eyes darken with hunger, not for blood but for her. He always looked upon her with such reverence, such awe, at her skin, her body, even simple things like her smile. Love for him warmed her from the inside out.

And then he licked his lips and that heat settled low in her belly and spread along her thighs. She let out a heavy breath, her chest heaving, and clenched her hands on the blanket beneath her, feeling the fabric twist in her fingers, threads stretched under the pressure she applied, just short of snapping and tearing. She tried to calm down, to understand her body's reaction, but it was far more overwhelming than it had been before. Every emotion, every feeling, was heightened. She felt simultaneously weightless and heavy.

Elijah's hands ran down the insides of her thighs and all she knew was him. Her mind seemed to stop, to stutter, and then focus entirely on the touch of his fingertips as they spread out and slid to the tops of legs, following them until they reached her hips. His hands held her firmly, his fingers flexed, and he dragged her body down the bed a few inches closer to him.

He was ravenous; she could see it plainly in his face. His fear for her, his sadness that she might have been lost, was mixing with his desperate lust. His hair was loose, tangled, and it made him appear wild, unlike the controlled man he often was. She had seen him free, unburdened, honestly happy, and now she was seeing another side of him. She wondered what had happened during the time that she had been gone. How long had it been since Niklaus had killed her and what did Elijah do in that time? If he sincerely thought her dead, then did Niklaus convince him so? Did he make his own brother believe that he has lost the woman he loved just to spite him?

She wanted to ask these questions, to understand, but Elijah kissed her knee. Her stomach twisted into tight knots as she watched his lips, so smooth against her skin, press delicate kisses down her leg. As he went, he lowered himself to his knees, and she realized where he intended to go. Her thighs shook and she swallowed thickly as his eyes met hers, dark and promising. His hands spread her thighs further apart while his head ducked down, his tongue pressing flat against her and licking the length of her slit in a slow drag before flicking against her clit. He chuckled as she let out a strangled moan, her back arching as the spike of pleasure crashed through her. It was stronger than it had been before, the ecstasy coursing through her lit her up in small bursts, burning hot and deep.

As she lay panting, his lips and tongue devoured her, suckling her folds, his teeth faintly grazing sensitive, wet flesh. She bucked against him each time he passed across her clit, both loving and loathing that fleeting touch. His hand found her stomach and braced her, keeping her from moving too sharply. His free hand slid low beneath his chin and first one and then a second finger dipped inside her, thrusting slow and deep. She reached for him, burying a hand in his dark hair, her nails scraping the back of his neck. He teased her, his actions encouraged by her scratching and pulling of his hair.

"Elijah," she breathed, her toes curling. "Please. _Please_…"

He rose, drawing his mouth from her, his wet lips curled in a deliciously satisfied smile. She let out a whine of disapproval; she had been so _close_… But her complaints stopped as she watched him rid himself of the rest of his clothes, standing gloriously naked before her. She pushed up to her elbows, wanting to reach for him, to wrap her legs around his waist, press her face against his firm chest, and curl her fingers around his long, thick shaft, but he stayed her.

He first pressed a kiss to her lips, licking into her mouth, flicking her teeth, and then pulled away before she could reciprocate. His head ducked, lips finding the pebbled nipple of her breast, his hair dragging against her skin, tickling her. And his fingers, long and deft as they were, resumed their position inside her, his thumb cleverly rubbing circles over her clit. Her climax was upon her quickly, starting between the tense spread of her thighs and reaching up to where his teeth and tongue teased her breasts. She shook beneath him, her bones fairly rattling inside her from the feel of it all, her throat vibrating as she cried his name.

And then his lips were upon hers, hard and needy, as if he was searching for something in each kiss that passed between them. She understood as she wrapped her arms around him, as she felt him shaking; his formidable frame, the picture of strength, was trembling atop hers. It confused her, at first, the contrasting knowledge that he was one of the strongest men she had ever known and could, if necessary, kill any who oppose him, and yet, in that moment, he was vulnerable.

He buried a hand in her hair, tangling it around his fingers, and then cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. He kissed down to her chin and nuzzled his face against her before burying it at her neck, panting against her skin. He wanted only for her to remind him that it was true, she was indeed alive and with him. He found her mouth once more and hugged her to him, squeezing tightly, drawing her closer even as there was nothing, not a hair's breath, separating them.

His forehead pressed to hers, his eyes squeezed shut, and she saw the pain there in the wrinkle of his brow, the tense set of his jaw, the clenching of his teeth. She could see the overwhelming uncertainty of what her possible death had caused him and she realized that the possibility had torn him apart. Elijah, whom she had unwittingly thought of as invincible, had a very real weakness, and it was her. A tear slipped from her eyes as she understood that this love between them, as much as forever had just been a word before, was truly a reality. Not because they were vampires, not because they could truly live forever, but because of the depth of their feelings.

"Elijah…" She cupped his face, stroking her thumbs over the arch of his cheeks. "I am _with _you."

He nodded jerkily, but still would not open his eyes.

She stroked her fingers through his hair soothingly, curling them around his ears and kneading his neck. "Will you dance with me?" she whispered.

He paused, his hands releasing their tight hold on her, and a trembling breath left him. Finally, he opened his eyes to look at her, searching her face, her gaze, with tearful brown eyes. In an instant, his expression hardened; it became fiercer than she had ever seen it. "I will not lose you. Not for anything, not to _anyone_."

She tipped her chin up and kissed him softly, just a sweet press of her lips. "You will always have me."

His body relaxed slowly, resting against hers, hard and heavy but familiar and welcomed. She slid her knees high and wrapped her legs around him, enjoying the feel of him cradled in her hips.

They came together easily, and it was not as hurried as it had begun. He sunk inside of her gently, kissing his way up her neck, suckling at her skin. Their hands found each other, fingers twined, arms arched over her head. Elijah showed his adoration with his mouth as it reached for every available plane of her body, tasting and kissing it all. From the tips of her fingers to the tops of her shoulders, the hollows of her neck to the valley of her breasts. He laid her on her stomach and pressed into her from behind, holding her hands on the bed as he smoothed his lips down her neck, biting and sucking his way across her back.

She released his hands to grip the blanket tightly as his hips sped up. He rubbed his hands over her hips, squeezing as she clenched around the length of his cock. His fingers roamed higher, stroking everywhere they reached until finally he was cupping her breasts, his thumbs circling her nipples. And just as she was on the edge of climaxing, she felt it, his sharp teeth sunk into her shoulder. She cried out, squeezing tightly, and felt pleasure crash over her, shattering her into sharp fragments only to bring them all back together. Her entire body tightened with resplendent ecstasy before it released, flowing through her from head to toe. She went limp with it, her every nerve buzzing, and she smiled dizzily at the way her body seemed to hum.

When she could breathe again, her body beginning to calm down, she could feel him licking the healing bite on her shoulder affectionately, lapping at the blood and nuzzling her skin.

"Is it… always that intense?" she panted. "It wasn't quite like that before, when I was… _human_."

"For me, it is always intense with you…" He delicately brushed her hair off her back and kissed his way up her neck. "But yes, you will feel things more as a vampire. Pleasure and pain. Some will pass quickly, others will linger."

He turned to lay on his side, drawing her with him, her back against his chest, and she shivered as she felt him still hard inside her. He filled her so completely that she could still feel ribbons of her orgasm ricocheting as they moved.

"Are you sensitive?" he asked, dragging his fingers up her front, lightly tracing circles over her stomach.

She wrapped her hand around his forearm. "I feel everything… I feel you everywhere."

His hand rose up her body and curled around a breast, kneading her firmly. She fluttered around the length of him, her hips arching back against him. He teased the peak, circling his way closer and closer to the center. She bit her lip as she whimpered his name pleadingly.

"My sweet, insatiable love," he murmured at her ear, his lips brushing the shell.

Sliding out from behind her, he turned her onto her back once more and knelt between her legs, drawing one up around his waist while his hands continued their dedicated exploration of her body, from the flare of her hips to the tops of her shoulders and every soft inch of her in between. She could feel him against her thigh and she wiggled her hips, wanting more. As he continued to deny her, she reached for one of his hands and brought it to her mouth. It took her a moment, but the scent of her own blood still wetting her skin allowed her to lengthen her teeth as she had before, to feed, though the pain was far duller this time. She pricked the end of one of his fingers and watched the blood bead for a moment before she used his finger to draw on her skin, creating small swirling symbols. She looked up at him, appreciating the way his jaw flexed, his eyes flashing as he watched his blood spread over her pale skin. Veins appeared beneath his eyes and his hunger made him look darker, dangerous, like the man who had saved her, tearing the hearts from her enemies as they sought to ruin her in the forest.

But Elijah, even hungry, would never harm her. His wound healed quickly but he only tucked his finger between her lips for her to prick again. She tasted him, warm on her tongue, and let him linger, let his taste set in. It was not like the girl earlier, different somehow. His blood was richer, heavier than the servant's had been. She loved it. He let some of it trail over her lips before he resumed drawing on her skin, writing symbols she could not understand but that he seemed to, each one seeming more important than the last, like an ancient language of some kind. He did not lick up the blood trails immediately, instead he sat back on his haunches and surveyed his work with a keen, content eye.

"Language has changed so much since I was human. Many would look back on our writing and call it crude, but I see familiarity there. I see home..." He pointed to the jagged writing across her ribs. "Here, this is my name."

She looked down at herself, pushing up to rest on her elbows, and reached for it, careful not to smudge it. It felt, for a moment, like a stamp, as if he were making it clear that she was his.

"And this, here…" He trailed his fingers over the writing that arched over her stomach, "this was the symbol we used for 'wife.'"

She smiled then, a flood of warmth in her chest. "Do vampires get married, Elijah?"

"We can, of course. Most, I believe, simply call one another husband and wife. Some ceremonies seem unnecessary when you are no longer human, when certain religions or deities no longer hold true."

"I would like to marry… I had always planned to have a beautiful wedding. I imagined it many times, though I had never known what my husband would look like then."

"If you want a wedding, I will give you one. The grandest wedding to ever be thrown if that is your wish."

She smiled, and teased, "You spoil me, kind sir. If you are not careful, it will set a precedent."

He laughed, a deep chuckle that made her shiver.

"I have promised you the world, if you will remember." He leaned over her, his hands pressing into the mattress on either side of her chest. He ducked his head to hers, his hair falling, brushing her cheeks, as he bent for a kiss, sucking her bottom lip before he nipped it just hard enough to break her skin, a sliver of blood forming. He licked it up with the tip of his tongue before he moved down her body. He kissed the writing that crested her left breast and traced it with his tongue. "This is 'life,' and this…" He moved to her other breast and licked the blood from it. "This one means 'love.'" He dragged his mouth down the valley of breasts. "And this… is 'eternity.'"

Caroline buried a hand at the nape of his neck, her fingers wrapped in his hair, urging him on as he licked up every spare drop of blood, his tongue doing wonderful things to her skin, his sharp teeth grazing but not quite biting. He kissed his way down her stomach and, when he rose, he licked his lips, his chin wet with her blood. He bit his own lip, letting it bleed freely, and then he bent to kiss her. She tasted the mixture of it, his and her blood, warm and intoxicating, his tongue stroking against hers. She could feel her teeth as they lengthened, this time without the pain. She could feel hunger stirring inside of her, mixing quickly with her desire.

His hands ran down her sides, sliding beneath her hips to lift her to him. She let out a breathless cry against his lips as he thrust inside of her, hard and quick. His palms slid low, cupping her bottom, kneading either cheek before they moved to the underside of her thighs and lifted them, spreading them far apart. She arched her back, her chest pressed tight to his, and a strangled moan escaped her as he moved so deeply, filled her so completely, every inward thrust rubbing against something inside of her that sent exceedingly pleasurable waves through her, rocking her whole frame. Her hands found his shoulders and slid down to his chest, her nails digging in, scoring his skin.

She could feel herself, so very close to euphoria, but his hips were slowing, stirring, and she shook her head. He was teasing her again, drawing it out. Without thinking, she leaned up abruptly and, suddenly, found herself on top, Elijah beneath her, his hands pinned to the bed as hers wrapped around his wrists. Her eyes widened in shock, but he was neither discouraged nor angry that she had taken control. Instead he rolled his hips, pressing up into her, encouraging her to move, to take her pleasure. Her mouth fell open on an appreciative sigh and she rose to her knees.

She had done this before with him, as a human, but she had not forcibly turned him over, she had not the strength then. It felt good, it felt empowering, to not be weak, to not be silly or breakable. After her father, constantly telling her that she was just a silly girl, after Niklaus and his terrible words and actions, it meant everything to her that she could be strong, she could be powerful.

From her perch on Elijah's lap, she let her hands roam from his stomach to his chest, tracing the hard lines and tensed muscles. She found a pace she enjoyed, moving her hips whichever way she felt, searching for that flash of fire that made everything inside of her sing. She bent to kiss his skin, licking him as he had her, lightly biting his nipples and following the lines that defined him with her teeth and tongue, tracing the ridges of his abdomen. She dragged her nails down his sides and rubbed her thumbs over his hipbones as she started moving faster, finding the angle she liked best.

His hand settled on her belly and moved up, fingers spread out, pausing at her heaving chest a moment as she panted, her head thrown back, long hair trailing and swaying with each move she made. And then her eyes squeezed shut as she felt it, a flood that knew no end. Her mouth fell open on a silent scream as it consumed her, like flames licking across her. She squeezed around him, quaking from the inside out, and felt as he pressed himself deeper inside her, his hands gripping her hips almost painfully tight as he moved hard and quick to find his climax.

Boneless, she fell forward. He caught her easily and turned them onto their sides to face one another, her head falling softly to a feather pillow. As she tried to catch her breath, he brushed her hair from her face, stroking his fingers through her long, tangled curls.

She smiled up at him sweetly. "This is the first time we have made love in a bed," she told him.

He pressed a kiss to her lips and then another. "I regret that we did not know its comfort sooner."

She shook her head, covering his hand as it laid against her cheek. "I treasure every moment in our clearing."

His lips curled faintly at the corners and he pulled her in closer, drawing her head to his chest. They lay in silence for a few moments, wrapped in each other, her fingers lightly running up and down his side, from his chest to his hip, while his were busy combing through her hair.

"Am I to expect you will always distract me from my hunger in such a way?" she queried, her voice teasing.

"It would be my pleasure," he answered, smiling.

"Then I look forward to your lessons in control."

He chuckled under his breath, kissing her forehead.

"It will not be easy, will it?"

"Being a vampire, or learning control?"

"Either… _Both_."

He sighed. "In the beginning, it will take time, but eventually, it will become natural to you… You will make a fine vampire, Caroline."

She hummed, nodding thoughtfully. "I hope so."

It did not take long for Elijah to succumb to sleep, but Caroline stayed awake, resting comfortably against him, their arms and legs tangled. She raised her head to look at him, and could see the exhaustion plain on his face, not just from their lovemaking but from the turmoil of the night; her heart ached for it. His brother had killed her. Yes, he had fed her his blood to change her, but he had killed her all the same. What must Elijah have felt in that moment? Anger? Hatred? Betrayal?

She stroked her fingers through his hair before she let them trace the angles of his face reverently, watching as he leaned into her touch, even deep in his slumber. Niklaus had been selfish this night; he had hurt her and Elijah for his own ends. Perhaps to prove to her that she was disposable, or to show Elijah that he was the stronger of the two. Whatever his reasons, Caroline knew one thing… He had hurt Elijah, his flesh and blood, and while fear of Niklaus still lived inside her, it did not change the fact that if she ever had the chance, she would kill him for what he did.

It was a terrifying thought for Caroline, as she had always believed that she could not hurt a soul. Just this night, she had feared being the cause of an innocent girl's death. But a part of her wanted nothing more than to do to Niklaus as he had done to her. To show him that while he was willing to kill her to keep his brother for himself, she was willing to kill him to keep Elijah safe from harm. Of course, it was a silly notion, as she knew that she would never be as strong as Niklaus, and the opportunity would likely never come, but the seeds were planted. Niklaus had wasted his chance to gain her confidence and one day, she knew, he would regret that. Until that day came, however, she would comfort herself with the fact that he may have taken much from her, but she still had Elijah. And she would not let him go, not for anything or anyone.

Resting her head against him once more, she closed her eyes, and willed the morning to bring with it a better beginning.

Given all that had happened, Caroline slept far more soundly than she anticipated. She expected nightmares of her death, her parents' murders, perhaps a mocking Niklaus to draw on her fear. But with Elijah wrapped around her, she found a dreamless peace like she had not known before. At home, sleep often had to contend with the noise of the many animals her neighbors kept and her father waking early to join Stephen for hunting. Here, the only sounds that filled the chamber were of the crackling fire and Elijah's even breathing, both of which soothed her.

She had only woken once, startled when Elijah shifted in his sleep, drawing her to him and squeezing so tightly it nearly hurt. Were it not for her body's new-found strength, she was fairly certain his grip would have pained her greatly. Instead, she sleepily stroked the fingers he pressed over her stomach, rubbing back and forth gently until he relaxed, letting out a soft sigh as he buried his face in her hair. Only when she was certain that he was calm did she return to her slumber, smiling faintly as she drifted away.

Come morning, her smile faded, however, as she found the bed otherwise empty. It took her a moment to realize that Elijah was still in the room; he merely stood by the door, closing it on whomever had decided to interrupt their sleep.

"'Lijah?" she murmured tiredly, her eyes fluttering to half-mast.

"It is Niklaus…" His lips pursed in a frown. "He has summoned us to join him in this morning's meal."

Caroline's eyes opened widely, suddenly no longer tired.

The devil had called upon them and they would answer.

[**Next**: Part VII.]

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**Author's Note**: _Whew! I'm really happy to finally be posting this! I got a surge of inspiration after I watched The Originals pilot episode, which I still think is kind of funny since Caroline wasn't even in the episode and it mostly centered on Klaus (not to mention it gave me unexpected Klaroline feels), but thems is the breaks. So! Here you have it, the latest chapters of one of my favorite stories I've written. You all have **Shannon** (arkfall) to thank for the coherency of this chapter, because there were a few times I lost my flow and didn't transition well. She's a peach! Also, a shout out to **Mel** (dhfreak) for making all of the beautiful art that goes along with this story._

_I'm writing the next chapter now and ironing out the finer details, so I hope to update again soon. I'd like to get back to my once a week schedule of updating this story until it's finished. I hope you enjoyed this installment, it's one of my favorites, and I'd love to get some feedback on what you like and where you think it's headed, so please leave a review before you go! They are the lifeblood of all writers and they certainly encourage me to write more and often._

_Thank you for reading!_

**- Lee | Fina**


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